Reconstruct
by siriuslymack
Summary: —  reconstruct: to build or form (something/someone) again after it has been damaged or destroyed. REPOSTED FROM WATTPAD w PERMISSION. eventual DracoxHarry (drarry)
1. casting

CASTING

Draco Malfoy ; Tom Felton

Blaise Zabini ; Jaden Smith

Harry Potter ; Daniel Radcliffe 

Hermione Granger ; Emma Watson 

Ron Weasley ; Rupert Grint 

Ginny Weasley ; Bonnie Wright 

PLAYLIST

tba


	2. forword

* CURRENTLY UNDERGOING EXTENSIVE EDITING. CHAPTERS WILL BE REPUBLISHED WHEN FINISHED SPORADICALLY 

ABOUT

— Draco is struck by a creature inheritance which completely flips his world upside down. Throughout this novel you are able to experience and see the world of Harry Potter through his eyes and discover what it's like to live in a world ridden with terror of rejection, unexpected inheritances and life changing choices thrown on you.

ACHIEVEMENTS

1\. tba

2\. tba 

SYNOPSIS

— reconstruct: to build or form (something/someone) again after it has been damaged or destroyed.

DISCLAIMER 

— the entire universe and characters are created and owned by the talented J.K Rowling. I only claim ownership over the plot and storyline which is of my own design and creation with influence from both sources of entertainment such as novels and movies.

— this novel/story is for entertainment purposes only as I am not profiting in any way shape or form financially from the publication and creation. Thank you, Rowling for introducing us to the world of Harry Potter, filled with magic and mythical creatures as without it my own creation would not exist.

WARNING

— mentions of nudity

— obscene language

— violence

— torture / gore

— dark themes

— lgbt pairings

— mental illness referencing

CONTACT

— instagram : @ tcnyystrk


	3. prologue

01 - SIRENES MORS

A woman, with hair like freshly fallen snow cascading messily off her porcelain toned skin sat rocking rhythmically in a wooden chair, swaying back in fourth. Flames licked across long dead trees in the marble encased fireplace, cracking with sparks as shadows danced like ballerinas across the rooms edges. It was dark like the rest of the long sitting empty house, with only the flames warm glow giving light at all. Dust laid on the mantel like a long forgotten friend as only the sounds of the fire and the hums of the woman echoed harmlessly around the room.

"Dormi, mi fili, dormi - veniet dies quo tibi erit larga, largissima quies," She softly hummed, brushing strands of similar locks to her own from a bundle of blue, resting in her shawl covered arms. In the low glow of light, another woman strode into the room with a complete disregard for quiet, as her heels clicked and clunked like gunshots alerting the blonde of her arrival. The flames orange cast an eerie shadow across the intruder's face, giving away the sharp curl of her toothy grin. She was dressed in the nights chosen colours, her hair a matching tangle of bluish noir. Cheekbones switchblade sharp like the ones resting in plain sight against her tampered waist that lead to a deadly laced corset to match the drape like skirt of velvet. The woman's eyes were dilated as she hastily glanced from side to side as if expecting followers in her wake.

"My, my Narcissa," She spoke in clipped words when she was no more than a meter or so away. The blonde however, didn't look up and simply smiled to her waking child who nearly grinned in his drowsy state.

The woman of darkness licked her bloodless lips as her eyes scanned the mantle noticing the dust with crinkling disgust before returning her attention back to the blonde woman she had addressed as Narcissa. "I assumed you had forgotten that song."

"How could I?" Narcissus murmured softly, her voice sounding smooth like warmed butter, gently swaying the blue bundle of life. "It was the only song our mother ever sang to us three, Bella."

The woman, Bella as she was called, frowned at the other as she rolled her deepset of amber eyes. Bella thought Narcissa to be too trusting and soft in the regards of their mother. She was a woman who knew not of love or compassion in the way a mother should. Instead she taught the rules of what a woman shouldn't be and tore each of her daughters down to their knobby knees in the thought that they were never going to be enough to please the world and that they themselves will only survive if they marry a man of wealth. It did not matter who they did or didn't love and it definitely did not matter if they were a loving husband or one to easily disrespect a woman. Wealth and social standings were all that mattered, if you thought otherwise or went against her will you were burned from the tapestry and scorned from the family.

"Motherhood has made you soft, sister," She stated as she peered down over her sisters shoulder to get a decent look at the bundle of flesh she had brought into the cruel world. It looked nearly lifeless, with its blobs of mush for hands and it's face squished and rosy tinted. Though it's hair was soft looking, like bloomed petunia petals and the colour of her sisters pale blonde if not more fair. The child was beautiful in beauty, but hideous in uselessness. Bella pitied the poor morsel.

"This is the lump of bones you decided to curse with life?" She asked flicking a lock of stringy hair between her dirt-caked nails. The mother's chapped lips tightened like rubber bands in irritation at her sisters poor word choice.

"I did not curse my child, Bellatrix." She seethed through her clenched pearls of teeth, clutching the bundle of blankets closer to her stomach, which still ached from the overextended muscles used in the wee hours of the night. Oh, how she survived she never knew as the pain was like being ripped in half by each muscle and ligament. The healers and nurse maids that were present only hours ago had long left though they seemed shocked she had survived the traumatic experience as well. It was not uncommon in the wizarding world for a witch to die during child birth.

"Unknowing the consequences of being a Black I simply let myself fall in the unrealistic thinking that I would someday be able to build my own family. One without the ideals of the one I came from," She defended herself through clenched teeth as her chest tightened in unknown sadness and fear for the babe she had grown to love in such a small amount of time.

"You knew damn well of the consequences of our family, Cissa," The dark haired woman spat like venom matching the woman's cool blue eyed stare with her own of ignited amber. "You, just like every other woman in our bloodline though, were too foolish to have the child killed before it was born."

The blonde wiped her wet eyes from her sisters rightfully spoken words, glaring down at the baby as if it was his fault and not her own. She hated how her life had turned out to be, even if she had ended up with the best out of her two sisters. Bellatrix was forced into a loveless marriage that unsurprisingly fell apart moments after it was legalized as he took many other woman to bed. She had left the man shortly afterwards much to their mother and fathers chagrin and retook her maiden name. Mind you this was many, many years ago. Andromeda, cast off from the family in favour of a loving muggleborn. Oh, how her witch of a mother had ranted endlessly about that to their ill taken father that spring.

Then herself, forever bonded to a pureblood supremest with enough wealth to run the country for decades, who like all men of power lacked backbone in their own opinions and only knew what their parents had stuffed in them like puppets. She can not complain though as Lucius, as ambitious and cowardly he is, cared for her despite the forced arrangement and stayed faithful like a married man should. He even went as far as to hopefully bless her with the family she so desired, though the prophets and seers of the magic world seemed to loathe the idea of her being happy.

"Bella, heed my words very carefully," She spoke quiet but firm as she only had eyes for the child in her arms, "I would never take away my child's chance at life, before and after the carrying in my womb."

"Death would have been better for it." The woman snarked like a hiss as she stood back up, tall with impeccable posture like taught for years and years on end to them both. "Kinder for it."

"I believe in the right of giving my boy, my baby a chance. What is so wrong with that choice?" Narcissa asked, directed more towards her dead ancestors than her irritated and annoyed sister for her irrational dreams, thoughts and careless wants of a family.

"Because this child is cursed to grow like me," She declared like a horrendously awful secret to the world, as her facial features dropped to a darker but blank expression.

"Bella your situation is quite different than my son's-"

"How can it be?" She said her eyes concerned and caring but her face still void of emotion as she looked her blue eyed sister plain in the eyes, "Even before I walked in this room I could feel the magic pull around him. He is doomed to live a life possibly even darker than my own."

"T-that's not possible." Narcissa stumbled out like a toddler learning how to speak its first word, "You are the worst in our bloodline. A Pure Mors is a burden worse than death itself-"

"I love how you view me so horrifically," She swiftly interrupted with a eye roll at her sisters over the top dramatics.

"Should I add this to the list of why I hate myself?" She teased with dark humour, miming an invisible quill and ink pot with the air as her parchment to write on, "Note to self; sister's view me as a bloodthirsty monster worse than death..."

"You know that's not what I meant Bella-" Narcissa pouted with a frown as she looked up at the dark haired witch, "Now tell me what you feel with your voodoo about my son."

"Oh do I now? Though it's not like you're wrong. I am a monster and I accepted that fact years ago," She stated like cold facts of nothing at all important, before adding like a second thought the answers to her sister's questions.

"And I can't know anything for sure. But he radiates death and darkness more than even I have seen... Papa would know more than I."

Narcissa chewed on her already cracked lips with worry as she spoke softly to Bellatrix reminding her well of a fact they both remember, "Sister, Papa has been passed for near a decade now. You know better than I of his long winded passing."

Bellatrix's eyes darkened at the subject, her eyes closing tight as she tried to block out the memories of her father. A kind hearted man with a grip of steel for obeying the law. He never treated any of his children different despite their implantations of darkness and horror clogged in their veins. The man was the first one to ever show Bella a true spectrum of love, even after her sisters were around he always made time for her, the black sheep of their family. She was always his little girl even if she was cursed with the forever longing to kill a man... to torture a woman... to maim a child. He made time for her and her other specialty sister, Andy whom was half Nymph. She was troublesome with an affinity for plant life and natural mother hen tendencies - like Bella though with softer longings. Narcissa was their mother's favourite since she was the only so called 'normal' one of the family. Perfect Narcissa, with her fair like snow skin, blonde uniform curls and sapphire blue eyes. The epitome of beauty in England.

Bellatrix was suddenly brought back to the present from her long winding thoughts of the past on sunnier days and less gloom filled nights as a cold hand grasped at her olive wrist.

"Bella..."

Her eyes flew open like shutters long shut and met her sister's eyes before resigning to say the only thing she could think of to not make her sister stare at her with more pity. That is one thing she hated about Narcissa more than anything. Her pity that she so carelessly threw and more forcibly at her than anyone else. She didn't want it nor did she need it.

"Sirenes Mors," She assertively spoke not meeting the blondes glassy eyes, "I cannot be sure without tests and I know not enough of it to be sure but that is what I think he is burdened with."

"How is that possible...?" Narcissa mumbled, her voice soft like a feather as she clutched the infant tighter to herself as she felt the beginnings of silent tears stream down her sharp edged facial features.

Bellatrix stayed silent as she turned away from the mother and child, and instead decided to switch her unsympathetic eyes towards the flames which were simmering to nothing but ashes in the lack of fuel to keep them alive. Without a second thought she wandlessly conjured three more slender logs to the fearsome element, no longer starving it.

"Bella, you know as well as I those genetics faded out of the bloodline after our Greatest Grandfather Klaus , if it's true-" Narcissa started, anxiety seeping into her voice like devils snare on a victims throat, though she was hastily interrupted by the harsh and deliberate words of the other adult in the room.

"My senses don't lie. If I look just past his physical state of being and to his astral the black veins like thorned ivy is plain to see." She turned around and knelt next to the baby sitting in her sisters lap and let her finger tips trace around his rip cage in strange uncharted patterns.

"It is wrapped tightly binding his heartstrings with itself like red twine around a bail. His fate is determined whether you choose to accept or not."

The mother whimpers as tears slide down her face and onto the creaking wood floor with a small splat. "Oh my poor... poor, baby..."

She sniffled more tears leaking rivers down her face as she brushed her lips across the child's forehead, it's eyes flying open to reveal liquid mercury iris' and the longest of eyelashes.

"Oh Bella, what will I do?" She whispered at loss, staring at her beautiful baby boy.

"You tell him," She said as if it were obvious as she caressed the apple of the child's cheek with her hand before beginning to stand, "When he's older you must tell him."

The blonde did not give any notice that she heard the woman, the only sound breaking the peace being the sudden thump from a nearby room alerting them they are not the only ones in the castle of a home. The dark haired woman straightened her posture then, summoning a dark cloak with shiny red fastenings.

"I will take my leave now, sister. Give Lucy my best," She spoke finally, the name being an old nickname from their days at school with a small grin.

"Safe travels, Bella." Narcissa said with a weak smile that barely reached her still damp cheeks.

She added as afterthought as she readjusted her child on her lap who was beginning to make an assortment of strange faces at the peculiar sounds, "Visit soon."

Though she never knows if her last phrase was heard as in return all she gets in return is a swift pop from her aparation and moments later shrill cries of the child in hand.

"Dormi, mi fili, dormi - aderit mox mihi, tum tibi ultima, optima nox."

LATIN LULLABY; 

Dormi, mi fili, dormi -

veniet dies

quo tibi eri

larga, largissima quies.

Dormi, mi fili, dormi -

aderit mox

mihi, tum tibi

ultima, optima nox.

TRANSLATION;

Sleep son, go to sleep.

A day shall come

When you will have

A far more plentiful calm.

Sleep son. Go to sleep,

My boy of light.

Soon I, then you, will meet

The last and kindest night.


	4. one

02 - FAKES

Many years later and many more miles away another boy much like the other awakes with a shock, though he does not cry out like the infant from his dream. He awoke in a cherry red train compartment, propped against a slick with fog window from the drastic temperature changes. The boy, though much closer to the age of a man being a rough estimate of sixteen years old had the hair of night and a strange scar on the left side of his forehead. He was known all around the world as the boy who lived, and more commonly as the boy who lied thanks to the gossip encouraging, rumour making newspapers of the Ministry of Magic. Though despite it all he much rather preferred to be called by his name and that only; Harry Potter.

"You okay?" The girl leaned up against him asked, her hair like that of the train and eyes like mud puddles in spring. She gave him a reassuring smile which didn't fully reach her eyes as her forehead creased with multiple worry lines.

"Yeah, just funny dream is all..." He trailed off not knowing what else to say as he sat himself up more. Glancing around with still fuzzy eyes from sleep, he sees across from him sitting side by side were his best friends, Hermione Granger and Ronald, though he preferred Ron, Weasley. Hermione as always on the train ride to school, which was where they were headed he remembered quickly as his stomach bursted with excitement at the thought, had her freckled nose stuffed in a ginormous book. Harry didn't really know how she could handle it. Reading... all day... and enjoying it... girls were very strange. Ron on the other hand was simply staring at him now with a rather peculiar expression and a thick wad of Droobles blowing gum in his mouth.

"Di'ja have a'ther nigh'mare?" The gangly boy asked around a mouthful of droopy pink gum. Harry shrugged in response, unsure of how to answer the question as he didn't really remember anything from it at all. Except for the crackling fire and the weird singing. Maybe Voldemort's new tactic was to make him go crazy with foreigner singing? Now that was something bizarre to picture.

"I don't think so... I mean, I don't really remember much of it."

Suddenly the snapping of a thick book gave him a jolt as he was met with the inquisitive state of the brightest witch in their grade, and likely Hogwarts. Hermione gave Harry a quick once over with her chocolate eyes, completely ignoring the redhead attached to his arm as she gave him concerned looks, "I think you should talk to Professor Dumbledore about these dreams of yours, Harry."

"Why? They're not bothering anyo–"

"They could be really bad through Har-Har, I mean what if he gets in your head again or tries to do to you what he did to me?" The said redhead on his arm spoke, giving him a big brown pout which Hermione thought made her look like a constipated bullfrog, while Harry and Ron felt suddenly really guilty for no reason at all.

"But that won't happen Ginny because unlike you Harry isn't messing around with any of Voldemort's old junk," Hermione snipped back. She felt moderately guilty afterwards but not enough to apologize to her, as the two redheaded siblings flinched at the use of the taboo name. It's not that she was angry or particularly mad at Ginny, it's just she was getting annoyed with her constant appearance in their group. Ever since her and Harry has gotten together over the summer she hadn't been able to ever talk to the two boys alone about anything. Not to mention that as soon as she brought something up to them the attention seeking girl would suddenly change the subject or take them away to do Merlin only knows what.

Ginny's eyes narrowed at the curly haired muggleborn with a look not so pleasant, not that any of the males present happened to notice at all. Ron usually unobservant and described by friends as obtuse, watched the interaction between the girls with heightened interest. He had an inkling that something more serious then mindless girly disagreements was going on between his sister and female best friend, and that in itself was worrying.

"So Harry," Ron spoke changing the topic in the speeding train car with a toothy grin. He spat his tasteless gum into a spare napkin at hand and disposed it in the waste in next to him before saying, "Excited for quidditch? I heard Angelina Johnson is the new captain!"

"Of course! It's going to be a blast really–" Harry started to say only to get cut off mid-sentence by his girlfriend, who suddenly was leaning against his side with more insistence. To add to the effect that Ron noticed with mild is great, his sister glared daggers at the brunette who looked away carelessly with a roll of her eyes. Ron now chewed on his lip awaiting an answer to his question as the brunette next to him propped herself lightly against his side in a platonic gesture. He had gotten rather used to this over the summer as she spent more time with him and the twins, and less with Harry. Hermione whilst leaning again her friend, ignored the girl and simply sat back to listen in on the conversation focusing on the topic rather than the people involved, or in this case not involved.

"I heard Angelina was dating Fred, did you know Ron?" She spoke animatedly with a curved eyebrow raised, moderately changing the topic yet again. This time Hermione had to purse her lips from saying something she knew she would later regret.

"Yeah I mean, I figured it would happen he's had a fancying for her for what Harry? Two years now?" Ron asked half heartedly not sure where this was going and simply went along with it and tried to pawn off the question to Harry who looked about as comfortable as Ron himself felt with the topic.

"I don't think you can call a fancy him basically harassing her for two years and making suggestive comments." Harry simply replied as he unthinkingly laced his rough fingers to the gingers as she tugged at his sleeve with her own dotted hand. All the while still giving vicious stares to the brunette who looked ready to either explode with anger or storm out of the train car entirely.

"Well then you obviously don't know Fred then Har-Har, as that is his way of flirting." She emphasized staring right at the brunette with a vicious grin.

"If you call that flirting, Ginny than you obviously are uneducated on how it is done," Hermione snapped like an elastic before she promptly pulled out her book again. Knowing better than to continue her vicious train of though she stuffed her face in it attempting to read away their voices and focus on the different ways to extract a turtles toenails. Needless to say it didn't work as the entire compartment was now awkwardly silent.

"You okay, 'Mione?" Ron suddenly asked, noticing her odder than usual insistence upon reading and biting comments. After knowing the bookworm for so long you began to pick when she's fake reading, rereading, boredom reading, insistently reading or joyfully reading. And to answer your questions, yes he knows the differences between them all.

"Peachy," She spoke a lot harsher than she intended, causing the falsely concerned girl across from her to speak up yet again. The girl just didn't know when to stop pushing her buttons did she?

"You don't sound okay, Hermione. What's wrong?" Without even looking at her, the brunette could tell her lips were nearly in a smile and her eyes would most likely be glinting with venom. Why she thought the need to try and scare her off from her best friends was beyond her imagination. Though she maybe thought it was because she saw her as a threat to her relationship, which was honestly stupid as hell. Harry was like her annoying brother with a huge case of procrastination. Nothing more and nothing less.

"I don't know Ginerva, why don't you tell me," Hermione spoke without thinking, in answer to the girls obviously sarcastic question. Glancing up from her book that she wasn't even focused on, she saw the glasssy tears gather in her eyes as she looked to Harry as if to make sure he noticed that she was 'upset.'

"Hermione," Harry scorned her like she was the one in the wrong, "Was the really necessary?"

Hermione fleetingly glared at the girl before replying, completely ignoring the boys in the car, "You're absolutely pathetic."

"Oi!" Ron spoke up, suddenly sitting up straighter as he added watching the kerfuffle unfold, "That's my sister 'Mione!"

"Yeah well your sister is getting on my nerves, Ronald." Hermione said turning to the redhead in turn with a look that screamed 'don't argue with me right now' as she sat up from her leaned pose on him.

"Honestly, am I the only who happens to notice that she's playing you two like fools as she tries to cut me out?!"

At this Ginny buried herself in Harry's arms and started to weep like it's a grande theatre production, causing emerald eyes to narrow at her like a snakes, while the boy next to her cautioned a glance to her, "What's gotten into you? Ginny is my girlfriend–"

"And I thought I was your friend! Apparently I thought wrong as here you sit siding with your pathetically fake girlfriend simply because she's threatened by the only other girl you happen to talk to on a day to day basis!" Hermione nearly shouted at him, finally venting out all her anger in one long breath before standing up and grabbing her book in one hand.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?!" Ron called after her, confused by the entire arrangement. He glanced between Harry and Hermione with a frown and took notice of the tearless eyes and face of a his sister whom looked ready to smile.

"To a different compartment that might actually value me being there," She snarked before walking out of the car, and slamming the sliding glass door with at least double the amount of force needed to close it.

A moment passed in awkward silence as Ginny snuggled closer to her boyfriend who likes to still be feeling with pent up anger at the long gone brunette. Ron instead invested himself into staring out the window and avoiding all eye contact with the touchy couple. Honestly, he was her brother, he didn't need to see that!

"Good riddance," Ginny mumbled just loud enough to be heard as she sighed contently and leaned her head down on Harry's chest. Harry however didn't share the same sentiments as he replied without hesitation, "Was that necessary?"

He got not respond besides a crunch of food from Ron as he sprawled across the train seat and threw a mouthful of some type of muggle candy that had the inside of a chocolate frog and the outside of a hard candy coating. The yellow container called them MM's.

The rest of the train ride was noticeably quite and rather boring. The one boy eating far too much food for someone about to attend a grande feast and the other staring at the zooming by outside scenery with with a blank expression. Meanwhile the only girl there tried in vain to get her boyfriend to give her some attention in any possible way, shape or form. Needless to say, she didn't succeed and ended up pouting with a big lip the rest of the way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It felt like ages until the steam engine finally pulled to an abrupt stop at the Hogsmeade station. The students wasted no time in scurrying off, having already changed into their outer black wizarding robes and in search to grab their own carriage for the ride up to the medieval looking school. The carriages were one of the few perks of being at a magical school as they were enchanted to move on their own accord without any horses or anything, at least that was what Harry thought until he say the freakish bat-like skeletal horses attached to the carriages.

"What in Godrics chest hair are those?" Harry asked, his eyes widening to that of saucers as he not so discreetly pointed in the general direction a good three meters away.

Ron boredly glanced over, as he pulled his arm through the two inches too short black sleeve of his robes, "Are what?"

"Those," Harry emphasized directly pointing at one of them as they flexed their previously folded wings, and stamped their horse shoe covered hooves.

"There's nothing there Harry." Ginny said nervously as she glanced at what she saw as thin air. Not bothering to hide it, she sent a a worrisome glance at her supposedly sane boyfriend.

"Bud, you feeling okay?" Ron asked casting a strange look at his best friend as he darted back and forth between the air and his best mate.

Harry didn't answer and the other two didn't press it as they started to climb the steps into the carriage noticing that a white blonde girl already sat their, oddly reading magazine upside down.

"I wouldn't worry about it, Harry Potter. I can see them too," She moved her magazine down from her face to reveal a hazy pair of clear blue eyes and skin as white as snow, "You're just as sane as I am."

"And you are..." Harry asked as he took a seat across from the strange girl with Ron, while Ginny was forced next to her.

"Luna Lovegood," she said her voice airy and light as she moved her ingesting eyes to Ron and then Ginny in turn, "And you're Ronald and Ginerva Weasley."

"Just Ron is fine actually," The redheaded boy said quickly as he shuffled his hands like a nervous tick before adding, "Which house are you in anyways?"

"Ravenclaw. Wit beyond measure is a man's greatest treasure. At least that's what the sorting hat said."

She paused for a second before clutching at a rather oddly shaped bobble on a... butterbeer cork? necklace. "Not that it matters though... Are you three exited for the feast? I hope they have pudding this year."

Harry was beginning to feel really weirded out by this peculiar girl suddenly, right down to her mismatched shoes, one red patterned and one green to her radish shaped earrings.

"Um... right then," Ron spoke as he glanced anywhere but at the blonde girl, who suddenly started talking to Ginny as if they were close friends. He kept that in mind to talk to his sister about what kinds of loony people she tends to hangout with.


	5. two

03 - DRINKS WITH DUMBLEDORE

No matter how many times Harry walked through the large wooden doors Hogwarts would always feel like home. The heavenly aroma of home cooked meals and pumpkin spice filled the steamy air as the makeshift trio plus one walked through the grand doors of Hogwarts. The house elves, with their bat like ears and no longer white pillow case tunics, must have been up hours before dawn making everything perfect for the hundreds of students arrival.

"Well this is where we part," The girl who previously introduced herself as Luna spoke. She tugged at her left earring, spinning it in clockwise circles and then sharply turned to the three.

"It was pleasure to meet you in person Harry Potter. Nice meeting you Just Ron." Harry and Ron waved, unsure of what else to do as she started to run off before turning around halfway to her table on the far side near the students with green ties usually sat. Calling out lastly to Ginny, with a bright smile reaching her blue eyes in excitement, "See you in Herbology and Astrology!"

A moment passed where the three just watched as she skipped off in her happy little bubble with nothing, not even the rumours already flying to and fro between the students, managing to stifle her confident strides.

"Well, she's definitely something else," Ron remarked when she was long gone to Harry, shaking his head with a goofy looking grin on his face.

"That's putting it mildly." Harry said with wide eyes watching her skip off, unsure what to say about the girl besides that she was both strange and exceptionally nice. Then again the weird ones always were... nice that is.

Not wasting anymore time, the three quickly walked off toward their own house table at the other far end of the hall where a large lion banner coat of arms was displayed on the side, while on the opposite side of the hall on the wall hung a snake coat of arms. Just seeing the emblem made Harry's arm hair prickle on guard. Unconsciously he swept his emerald eyes up and down the familiar tables benches before they landed on the familiar shimmering blonde, his back thankfully to him. Though before he could inspect further about his houses rival he stubbed his toe on the long wooden bench and nearly landed on an unsuspecting Angelina Johnson, the new Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Honesty Potter, its a miracle you can even fly with such grace with your two left feet. I pity the girl you took to the dance last year." The girl with dreadlocks stated exasperatedly as he pulled himself off the empty table spot next to her where he nearly squashed her arm had she not moved it.

"Sorry Cap," he mumbled with a nervous laugh as he got a hold of himself before adding, noticing the older twins of Ron sitting across from her with identical mischievous grins. The girl in question however, just rolled her eyes at the younger boy.

"Congrats on the position by the way, you'll do great."At the sudden compliment the girl positively beamed with pride, sitting if at all possible a little taller.

"Thanks! Honestly, I wasn't so sure I would get it. I thought one of those knuckleheads would have," She jerked her thumb towards the said twins who were now in a deep conversation with their extra partner in crime Lee Jordan. Lee was a guy the same age as the twins, a year or so older than Harry, with a short but fuzzy brown Afro and expressive cocoa coloured eyes. The downside with Lee is that he has a bad habit of talking animatedly with his hands, that meaning that anyone in close vicinity better have fast reflexes or be prepared to get smacked.

Harry grinned at the girl and went to ask about tryouts and game plans for the Quidditch House cup this year only to get pulled along by his impatient girlfriend with the excuse of, "Come on you blockhead or all the good seats will be taken!"

Ginny didn't get to pull him far down the bench though as he promptly took a seat in his usual spot across from an already seated Hermione who looked to have cooled down from the train incident and was conversing with Ron. The two were in a deep conversation when Harry slid into his seat with a easy grin tacking into place. When the brunette looked up to greet Harry though, her gaze faltered and then narrowed in on the redhead who without a second thought had sat down next to him close enough that she was nearly on his lap. Trying to be discreet about not wanting her that close he tried to move away, only to have her move closer every single time. With a few minutes of this going on, Harry finally says, "Can you sit further away please? I don't need you on my lap."

"I'm not on your lap Har-Har," Ginny says with a pout as she reluctantly moves an inch away, as if that made a difference. Harry tried not to forcibly push her an extra three away. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see the flaming heads of the twins giggling at his predicament and eagerly showing Lee as well who started to chuckle at his obvious discomfort. Oh, how he hated being him.

"You were close enough to," Hermione muttered after a while with a simple roll of her eyes, as she stowed her book under her feet with care before turning to the entrance doors, anticipating the first years arrival.

Ginny however didn't hold back this time and narrowed her brown eyes at the girl across from her who was turned away. She spat with a surprising amount of venom for a small girl, her cheeks going a nasty shade of red, "Stay out of it, Muggleborn,"

"Gin, you don't need to address her like that–" Ron started to lecture, attempting the whole be-a-role-model, big brother thing. Though within seconds he gets cut down like a pine tree during Christmas season.

"Oh, so now you're sticking up for her? The witch who made me cry earlier!" She glared daggers at the older boy before crossing her arms across her chest and attempting to guilt trip the boy, "Sure shows your priorities."

"What are you even talking about...?" Ron mumbles, his confusion wrinkles becoming more and more pronounced on his forehead and between his red brows.

"I don't want to talk to you," She sassily states, completely turning her line of vision so she can only see Harry and the platform where the teachers eat at the front of the hall.

"Okay, fine by me," He mumbles with a sigh before looking to Hermione in hopes that she could tell him what he did wrong. Though she didn't seem to be paying attention as she focussed intently on the door that would burst open any second now.

Like predicted the door bursted open with the familiar amount of gasps sounding around the room from a bunch of midgets parading in like a swarm of bees following their mom... or queen? Either or McGonagall stood at the front carrying a worn patched up brown wizards hat which has seen more years than any of the kids in the hall could likely count and a small three legged stool faded from the many years of usage. The younger kids all made a variety of observations about the assumed teachers and students in the room around them. Many talked of the magical reflected sky ceiling, some correcting the others, some already knowing everything it seemed and ignoring them and others asking countless questions. Of course, there were the few still choosing to talk about things unrelated entirely to the sorting and wizards, like these two boys who passed by talking about some sport in the Americas called Lacrosse and some girls prattling on about a famous man named Tom Holland.

The sorting was fast and effective as the hat only had to sit longer than usual on a few children's heads. The headmaster, dressed in drapes of purple afterwards stood tall and imposing on a mahogany wood podium shortly afterwards with his blue orbs glowing with light reflected from the few fireplaces spread without the hall for warmth. His beard was now long enough and shaped to be tucked into belt loops if had any and grey and white edged like snow in particularly gloomy days in winter.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts," He greeted charmingly, his voice magnified but still calm through magic, "Now before we dig into another I'm sure to be delicious feast please allow me to say a few well pondered words; malignant, parlous, perilous, portentous, precarious."

Then smiling a toothy grin, lighting his beard a centimetre with his cheeks he then waved one hand as the other remained don the wooden post stand on the podium and spoke the magic word, "Begin!"

That was all the encouragement Ron needed as he tucked into his meal with no foreseeable amount of restraint. He loaded his silver coloured plate and both his hands, leaning forward towards the left to grab a leg of glistening orange chicken, with many varieties of food. Harry, Hermione and Ginny following suit soon after.

The feast, seeming to only get tastier as the years progressed on, stuffed the entire bellies of the packed hall with it's delicious assortments of chickens, roasts, salads, soups and desserts. Harry himself couldn't remember the last time he had ate so much though it seemed he wasn't the only one feeling that way as Ron looked a little peaky himself. Hermione and Ginny however as much as they seemed to be at odd ends with one another ate peacefully and minded their own business as they picked at their plates.

Harry, lost in thought and staring off towards the one side of the hall, was pulled from his daydreams and ponderous by a snap under his nose from the younger freckled redhead whom he was starting to get annoyed with.

"You with us? Good." She huffed before turning back to Ron, but glancing back at Harry expectedly as she – would you believe it?–had somehow become once again glued to Harry's side. "Anyway, I was just telling Ron about this new thing I want to try out for Quidditch training this year and I was wondering your opinion on–"

"Sounds great," Harry said pulling away from her not even letting her finish her sentence, "You do you."

Harry pretended then not to notice the deadly glare the redheaded girl gave him and the private smile that Hermione let herself have as she pulled out her book from underneath her chair after she was mostly done eating. Harry loved Ginny, at least he was pretty sure he did, does, same difference really. Though he can't lie and say that she hasn't been insufferable lately. Hell, he can't even walk a simple five feet away without her miraculously appearing at his side. She was clingy and couldn't leave him alone and it was exhausting.

"You don't even know what I was going to say–" Though thankfully, Harry never did have to as Dumbledore suddenly stood once more, this time seeming to stumble as he did as a few of the female teachers giggled in response. The commotion of the hall quieting to a low as they awaited the usual speech from the Headmaster.

"I'd like to say a few words hoping we are not to befuddled by another excellent feast," He started off like all the previous years with a easy grin, and sloppy wave of his hand. It was then that Harry started to wonder if maybe he had drank something other than the standard school pumpkin juice, as his words were slurred and not enunciated like usual with clipped syllables.

"I'd like you all to note that the Forbidden Forest is henceforth forbidden to all students, just like any other year here," He gave a weak humoured laugh himself as he glanced at the Weasley twins who seemed to not have heard a single word he said.

"Unless of course granted permission by myself or another Professor in the castle, not that the majority of you listen anyways." He amended at the end with a shrug. Harry was 100% sure that his Headmaster had not drank pumpkin juice with his dinner now as he was never this blatant about the rule breaking at school. Then again the rules at Hogwarts are never really followed anyways, at least not by him or really anyone in Gryffindor House.

"Like every other past year for the last ten years we have another new professor for our Defence Against the Dark arts post, Professor Dilmilda Prewett. I hope you can all join me in wishing her good-luck and maybe even a lengthy stay." A light polite clap welcomed the elderly witch, sitting with excellent posture and looking to be more strict than even Professor McGonagall. In between the choppy clapping the laughs stifled by older students could be heard amongst them as the witch stared forward looking to not find the wizard's wording humorous at all.

"And of course your Broomstick games. Mustn't forget that... Anyway Quidditch trials begin next week organized by your Houses Captains, therefore I have no idea when they are so have fun with that."

Then with a wave of dismissal the benches squeaked noisily again the cobblestone floor as the bumble and rumble of students began to leave. Just as Harry was about to leave the hall, Ginny holding his hand and Hermione and Ron talking amongst themselves, he couldn't help but feel the eyes of someone searing into his shoulder blades. Though when he turned around all that he was met with was the turning head of the high and mighty blonde waves of Draco Malfoy.


	6. three

04 - DUMPED

Sleeping was the only thing really on the entirety of Gryffindor house after everyone returned to the long used and moderately abused common room. Harry noticed when he walked in though that despite what the House Elves are capable of, there was still a large burned scorch mark in the middle of the one red rugs on the cobblestone floors from a variation of the game hot potato during one of their after parties for Quidditch. Needless to say, someone dropped the potato and a lot of people had burnt hands. The commons room however looked the same as it always had. Comfy and chaotically places furniture were littered throughout the room along with a series of un-matching carpets and rugs of shades of reds, browns and golds. The fire mantle was still the same mahogany wood with many odd trinkets placed here and there. The gigantic ceiling to floor windows still were framed by the burgundy coloured drapes with the golden tasseled cords clinging to them. Yes, the same old common room with the same old homey feeling.

Though despite the feeling of comfort and warmth Harry was not feeling a bit tired at all. Therefore he decided to retire himself to a singular arm chair by the large fireplace without the accompany of Ginny, while Hermione and Ron sat down on the well used sofa nearby. Ginny when arriving with him had went upstairs to change into her nightclothes and came down moments later dressed in faded pink pants and a grey robe around her in preparation for bed. She sat on the arm of the chair of Harry's and let one of her hands trace patterns on his shoulder as she sat next to them, intruding once more. Though she knew as did everyone else in the room including some older students who were longing about that their were multiple seats nearby she could take refuge on. Being the better person however, Harry decided not to bring it up with her and just endured the uncomfortable-ness

"Hey Hermione," Harry spoke for the first time to her since the train, meeting her eyes with his own emerald ones. "Have you met a girl named Luna Lovegood?"

Unknowing to the dark haired boy, the redhead next to him stiffened like stone at the mention of another girl and awaited Hermione's response as she too was curious. Maybe she could ditch the muggleborn with the blonde weirdo and she could be free of them both. That way she could have Harry to herself, well besides Ron but she'd find a way to dispose of him eventually too.

"Yes..." Hermione spoke rather unsure as to why Harry would be curious about Luna. She was a year younger than them all, same year as Ginny and most people around the school thought her to be completely off the rocker, much like her father.

"Ron and I met her today at the carriages," Harry continued just attempting small conversation in the group and to hopefully ward off all the tension between everyone. After all he really wasn't wanting to have to see Ginny and Hermione fight like cats again. "She was rather nice, kinda pretty, really really weird though."

It seems as though this was the wrong thing to say as Ginny bristled at the compliments he so carelessly told about the blond girl. Within seconds she was angrily getting up from the arm of the chair, her nose going pink in anger as she spat at the dark haired boy, "Was she now? Good to know that my boyfriend still keeps eyes for other girls!"

"What's gotten into you?" Harry asked confused at her reaction and watching her look like a Loony-tune cartoon when angry. Honestly, he thought if they were animated characters there would be smoke coming from her pink tinged ears.

"What's gotten into me?! You're the one acting weird Harry!" She yelled at him, causing quite the commotion that a few of the other students in the room quickly sent Harry sympathetic looks before leaving entirely. After all no one wanted to watch a man get torn down by their girl, especially if the said girl is a Weasley. They always yelled a lot in the process of the tearing.

"I am not!" Harry nearly yelled back in his defence. He wasn't acting weird was he? Not Luna crazy for sure. He slowly stood up to look at the redhead more easily.

"Really?! Then explain why you can see things that aren't there Harry!" She shouted for the entire tower to hear. Honestly, why doesn't she scream a little louder, He wasn't sure if all of Scotland had heard her.

"Holy hell, I sometimes think you've completely gone bonkers just like Luna!" Harry opens his mouth to retort something in the blondes defence though he is swiftly cut off entirely. Meanwhile all this is happening, the entire room has emptied minus Ginny's brother and Hermione who were watching the entire exchange with shock and churning stomachs in how this would end.

"–And then to say you damn near fancy her while I'm right next to you? Do you have no shame!?!"

"I don't fancy her! Where are you even coming up with this!?" Harry shouts back at her absolutely befuddled on how she came up with these ridiculous ideas. No one starts fancying someone just by meeting them for the first time. Not unless you're like eight and don't know the difference between idolizing, love and obsession.

"I'm not finished!" She shrieked loud like a black crow at dusk in a withering pumpkin patch, effectively cutting off whatever else Harry was going to interject.

"And then to add on top of all your craziness you place your stupid little muggleborn friend above me! Me! Your bloody girlfriend who has to deal with all your shit!" She yells and yells before turning a crazed eye glare towards Hermione who was trying to sink away into the couch and become unnoticed by the pair of angered teens. Normally she wasn't one to shy away from confrontation but she begged to not be dragged into this dramatic soap opera.

"Hermione has been my friend a lot longer than you have even been in my life!" Harry finally shouted at the witch which shocking shut her completely up as her cheeks lost their colours and her eyes seemed to dim as if she realized something. Harry breathed hard as he was furious and embarrassed to be doing this in a place with so many people able to hear. It was a common known fact that the stone walls of the common room and stone ceiling separating that from the upper floors of the tower which lead to the dorm rooms were very very thin. Not able to muffle even that of a loud sneeze.

A minutes worth of silence sat stagnant in the air with tension thick enough to cut with a butcher knife. Though no one moved from their spots in case it enacted another explosion.

"So that's it then?" Ginny finally spoke, her eyes shining in the low light of the room form the flicking flames, her voice uneven and sounding near broken.

"It's not me, it's not Loony Lovegood, it's the bloody muggleborn with a birds nest of hair and two beaver teeth!" She started off quietly spitting out and then started yelling with malice once more. So angered, she threw the first thing she could grab off a table at him, causing him to duck at last minute as a airborne lamp went flying at his head. Cord, bulb, shade and all.

"Stop throwing things and insulting her you mad cow!" Ron finally yelled after having had enough with his whiny and bitchy little sister who for some reason just couldn't stop acting out. Hermione simply pulled him back down to the couch after giving a cold glare to the redhead. She wasn't going to let some mindless insults hurt her, she's had years of practice from Malfoy on ignoring them anyways.

"Shut up Ronald, this doesn't have anything to do with you!" Ginny yelled at her brother as finally the tears started falling from her eyes as she finally as a last straw yelled at the man who started all her troubles back in her first year.

"I hate you Harry James Potter!" She screams as she goes to storm up to the girls dormitories. But just before she slams the door, knocking dust from the crevices no one knew were there she yells out, "And don't even think of running back to me!"

Silence one again takes hold of the situation and Harry and Ron stay standing frozen entirely in their spots. It wasn't until Hermione finally spoke, her voice soft and quiet in the tension filled room. "Harry, I'm so, so sorry."

With that Harry turns away form the staircase which he had watched his girlfriend? storm up in haste. Though Harry just turned to his two best friends and asked simply not looking to even be bothered by the display that had just happened minutes before. He rubbed the back of his neck with the palm of his hand and let out a long dragged out sigh before sheepishly asking, almost as if unsure of how to ask, "That would mean she's broken up with me, right?"

At that Ron couldn't help himself but start laughing at the words coming from his friends mouth. Without a second though he marched over to Harry and clapped him on the back before wrapping an arm around his shoulders and replying, "Yeah buddy you just got dumped by my sister."

At the remembrance of his now ex being his best friend's sister Harry's brain goes into a mini panic. What if Ron hates him now and is just being friendly to his face? What is going to happen during holidays? Is he still going to be invited to the Weasleys home? What about Molly? She will be devastated at the news of her dumping him, as he had heard the twins saying she was already orchestrating their wedding. Oh this was bad. This was really, really bad.

Though when Ron leads him over to the empty sofas still chuckling about Merlin knows what, his anxiety lessens as he figured Ron didn't seem too upset... if at all really. Honestly, the more Harry watched him, he would think that Ron actually found the entire thing to be absolutely hilarious.

Hermione on the other hand was a complete mess, not that Harry would dare voicing this out loud in fear of being smacked, or hell even worse, no help with the dreaded potions homework to come. She had stopped crying thankfully, though she profusely kept apologizing thinking it was all her fault and that she was sorry for being so rude to her as she was just having a bad day. Then she started saying how she knew that she didn't get along with her but she should have tried harder for the boy's sake... and yada yada yada.

Eventually Harry just cut her off entirely by excusing himself to bed, Ron shortly following afterwards as the girl refused to listen to them tell her otherwise. Hermione was stubborn in the most awful and brilliant ways but some days it would make life so much easier if she weren't at all.

Harry was just pulling back the covers of his four poster bed, all the other boys long been asleep and the moon full outside the window that he finally heard Ron speak since his earlier jesting.

"Harry..?"

"Yeah mate?" He replied simply as he crawled into his thin sheeted bed and started to remove his well known circular glasses.

"You know," Ron began to say simply as he stretched in his too small pajama shirt and pulled at it forcefully trying to stretch out the top tight cuffs. "Ginny has loved you for ages right?"

Harry didn't speak for a few moments, knowing he was navigating dangerous seas, "Yeah..."

"An that mum has thought of you as her kid since I brought you home in second year..."

"Kidnaped me really," Harry corrected with a small chuckle as he thought back to that simply ridiculous and magical night. Who just flies miles away to get your best friend in the middle of the night because he didn't answer your letter? Apparently the Weasleys. "But what are you going on about Ron?"

"Well just, I don't know man, do you think maybe you can uh, find a way to fix things with Ginny?" He asked as the oil lamp next to his bed was blown out without hesitation as the words of the weighty question hung like clean laundry in the breeze.

"I- maybe Ron." Harry answered after a moments hesitation as he tried not to hurt his best friends feelings, "I-I'll think on it."

"Kay... night Harry." Harry bided lastly before letting the softer snores of Dean and Neville forced him to sleep.

"Night Ron."


	7. four

05 - NIGHT FRIGHTS

Thundering snores from the open mouth of Ron Weasley echoed about the already messy room of the Gryffindor fifth year boys dorm. The occasional sigh could be heard form the mound of blankets encasing the single bed of Dean Thomas and the bed next to him of his best friend Seamus unsurprisingly was empty like most nights at Hogwarts. Croaks of missing toads jumping here and there in the common room wafted up into the stair ways and into the rooms as did the occasional hiss and purr from the cats chasing them to and fro. Hogwarts was like it always was a night. Not quiet but peaceful in the way that most unordinary things were. Though that night, well early morning as it was just after two-thirty, something changed in the air. Something big as everyone in the boys dorm was awoken by the sharp sound of shattering glass and the high pitched squeal of Neville Longbottom as he jumped awake in fright.

The lights of the room were thrown on in seconds by a groggy Seamus who had fallen completely out of the bed he was sharing with Dean, wearing nothing but a faded pair of pin-striped pants. Harry was standing with his wand pointed at the broken window, his eyes squinting as the shape blurred in and out of focus as his glasses lay forgotten on his bedside table. Neville stood rigid like a board, his rounded baby face showing the clear emotions of panic and 'what-the-mandragora-is-going-on', his wand held tightly in his white knuckles fist. Ron was sitting alert on his bed, his hair all flipped to the one side like he had walked through a cyclone. All the while they froze like marble statues in their spots as a thumping of feet could be heard racing up the stairs.

"Who did you piss off this year already Harry!? We haven't even been to class yet!?" The curly haired Irish boy mumbled still standing near the light switch, his eyes not moving from the broken window where the glass shattered laid in a pathetic heap in the middle of the room.

Harry gulped shaking his head not entirely sure, watching as the glass on the floor magically started to move across the stone.

Like invisible threads were pulling them to their designated spots, the five boys watched fearfully as they started to form rough shapes of letters, and the stone have most likely broken the window — despite them being many stories high in the air — laying a foot away from Dean's slipper covered left foot.

Harry after shoving his glasses roughly on his eyes to read it, chewed roughly on his bloodless lips as the shattered glass finally stilled and allowed him to read their glittery inscriptions.

The Brave that Dwell in these parts, 

All must go to the Hall of Great Art.

The boys however didn't get to think much farther than that as, the wooden door leading to the dorm room flew open without care as someone attempted to march inside. The reason they attempted and didn't make it fully however was that Neville then decided that this must be an intruder and quickly, but not so accurately, threw a curse towards the person.

Little did he know that the figure he just attempted to curse was his Transfiguration Professor, whom was most definitely not a morning person or in a patient mood.

"Mister Longbottom!" The stern shout was heard as the legendary woman stomped into the room with an unreadable expression. The light of the moon from the now glassless window giving away her identity. Neville upon realizing what he just did, attempted to shrink into the shadows in fear as the woman began lecturing him about the idiocy and recklessness he just committed when trying to curse her, not to mention that he also just earned himself a nights worth of detention dusting the trophy room with Filch.

"Now, what is the meaning of this?!" She finally shouts turning to all of them in turn, completely ignoring their various states of undress. Dean himself tried to quickly cover his shirtless-ness with his duvet inconspicuously.

"I get woken in the middle of the night by a house elf telling me you five are causing a ruckus in your dorm?!" Not one to hold favourites she didn't let her stern gaze stay on either boy longer than the last before she continued her scolding.

"It is near the middle of the night and you all have classes to attend!" She said waving a black robe covered arm in exasperation of them all. It was then that Harry shockingly noticed that the Professors hair was down in grey streaked waves and not up in its usual tight knot.

"But Professor we weren't causing a ruckus–" Dena tried to explain to the teacher with a look of distress across his face. As much as he hated talking back to a teacher or really trying to prove anything to one in general they didn't do anything wrong. They were sleeping for Pete's sake.

"Silence Mister Thomas you–" She started to say with a keen look towards him that made him shrink back into his comforter.

"But" Harry interrupted about to tell her what really happens only to be cut off similarly to Dean, though he didn't back down and cower at her look, having gotten plenty over his years at Hogwarts. What can he say, he wasn't the best of students when it came to both homework and following the rules.

"You would be wise to hold your tongue, Mister Potter," She scolded through tight lips, and the bottoms of her night dress blowing form the sudden draft through the window, though she didn't seem to notice as she stared at the rebellious embodiment of James. She knew him to have the mannerisms and common sense of his mother but his lack of regard for rules and gravitation towards chaos came form his father.

"Our window was smashed open, woman! We were asleep before then we swear!" Seamus, obviously not thinking his word choice through carefully, nearly shouted at his Professor. The entire group of boys held their breath as she friend her fearsome glare on him. Though nothing was said or spoken for some time... at least not until the resigned and exasperated woman spoke;

"Do tell me more Mister Finnegan of this codswallop story."

"He's telling the truth, Ma'am!" Ron finally spoke out, pointing to the smashed window on the side of the room and the glass on the floor. that apparently she hadn't notice when walking in.

"Well I'll be..." she trailed off as a hand covered her mouth as she gasped/yawned? None of them were sure which.

Silence over took the room as all of them stood uncomfortably still yet again, unsure of what to do. After all they were given no drills for this type of thing happening. Hell, Harry just realized they weren't even given an evacuation protocol or meeting place under the alarm of 'Code Red' or a fire.

Abruptly a silvery light flooded through the room as a corporeal patronus flowed into the room using the dark stairway. It stopped in front of the greying woman and upon further inspection Harry noticed that it was a studding codfish with silvery scales and a large lipped mouth and bulging eyes. It was then that he was glad he got his fathers stage and not a fish.

The fish however didn't waste in time before speaking, causing all the boys in the room to raise both amused and partially shocked brows as their Charms Professor, Proffesor Flitwicks airy and mouse sounding voice spoke.

"Minerva we have a code 315 happening. All houses have been vandalized at precisely the same time. Severus will explain in depth at the Great Hall. Evacuate your tower of students and send them to the Hall." It then vanished, like smoke in the night and the woman was left with a unreadable face as her lips formed a right line.

"Well, you heard the Codfish boys, find some footwear and be on your way."

The five didn't need anymore influence as they all quickly stride if they were not already standing and made way for their door, though their professor called out last minute as they were about to bound down the stairs.

"Boys," she said a amused smirk playing peak a boo on her weathered cheeks, "Might I suggest some proper trousers for Mister Finnegan and a possible a bed shirt for Mister Thomas. And in case you don't recall, the floors are quite cool at night, maybe some shoes would do you all some good."

Red-faced Dean and Seamus hurried over to throw on the clothing mentioned by their professor as the other quickly pulled on either their mandatory black shoes or some thick woollen socks. It was a good three minutes before they all parades down the stairs and towards the hall, murmuring the entire way about their Professor seeing then in various states of undress or how Neville was lucky to be alive for cursing at her.

Little did they know that the other dorm rooms on both sides were being awakened shortly afterwards with similar reactions.


	8. five

06 - NIGHTCLOTHES INSULTS

The five, not quite at full thinking capacity at nearly three in the morning, charged through the halls like a parade of elephants off to find food at noon nearly scaring the caretaker filch half to death when he had fallen asleep next to a statue on a bench. Thankfully the man let them pass after Sir Nicholas, as Harry had learn to call him rather than Nearly Headless Nick, excused them in saying that they were supposed to be up at this hour as was the rest of the school as they had a code 351. The caretaker had then ran off mumbling about finding Missus Norris. The boys privately all hoped the person who threw the rocks at their window had accidentally clunked her in the head and killed her. Then again they all knew that their wish was unlikely to have happened or ever come true.

After that unfortunate run in, it seemed as though luck was not on their sides as coming near the entrance towards the dungeons, Harry being in the lead as always when with a crowd though not meaning to be had decided to trip when rounding a corner and making an absolute fool of himself. Tripping in front of people was bad enough as it is, though to make matters even worse for himself, Harry had to have fallen on the one person who he hated most in the whole castle, well except maybe Snape. Draco 'I'm so great cause I'm a pureblood' Malfoy.

"Gah!" The blonde had exclaimed in shock as he was suddenly tossed onto the floor with something very solid crushing his rib cage. Honestly, wasn't getting woken up by the screaming of ghosts in the chilly common room bad enough and random inscriptions on walls but now he had to get crushed. Life was just not nice to him that day/morning/night/time-for-fucking-sleeping-not-running-to-the-great-hall.

When trying to shove whatever it was off him, though he soon realized it was a person as the mop of black hair was in his face and he swore their was arms near his head as they tried to scramble off of him. Draco nearly shoved the kid off entirely with a smart ass comment to boot, until he saw the putrid green eyes that made him boil with anger. How dare Saint Fucking Potter use him as his own personal sofa in a hallway and embarrass him in front of his friends!

"Get the bloody hell off me you mewling quim!" He snapped at the shorter boy as he shoved him off and went to get up himself, ignoring the smirking of Zabini and the looks he was getting from Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. He really needed to find better friends.

In his defence he didn't have much to choose from though as they had to both meet his mother and fathers standards first and then pass his own requirements. Granted, he didn't let himself have many or else he would never leave his house. Crabbe and Goyle, also known as Dee and Dum, were lumbering idiot's with the attention span of a goldfish but what they lacked in brains they had muscle. Therefore he kept them around as he most obviously wasn't going to fight like a common muggle, it was not only messy but completely unnecessary when he was a wizard. Blaise Zabini wasn't half bad. He was a immigrant from Italy and a bastard as his mother was quite the gold-digger and well known widow. Many tabloids think she was the one who killed her three husbands, though Blaise didn't seem to care to awfully much. He was built much in the same as Draco himself. Taller, with well kept hair and lean muscled. And smart, lord he was smart and Draco was thankful for that as he was constantly loosing brain cells just explaining simple transfiguration to the other two knuckleheads.

"Who even uses that language now a days, Malfoy?!" The red headed and ridiculously poor kid spoke up as he rounded the corner looking to be in a cross between laughter and anger as he stared at the state of him and his golden boy. Honestly the two of them together made Draco want to be sick. Leave it to Weaselbee to snag the friendship of the Golden boy just by sharing his sap life story. And before you get any ideas, no Draco isn't bitter about that fact at all.

"Obviously only educated people with class. I doubt you could even define a word over three syllables," Draco replied as he brushed himself off with a sneer presently on his face, as the redheads ears when as bright as his stringy hair. Oh, how he loved to rile up the fool.

"Shove off Malfoy," Harry clipped-ly replies as he grabbed the Redheads wrist and started to pull him away and off towards the hall, the others following suit all casting wary glances at the quartet, "He's not worth it Ron, let's go."

With the black haired teens last words they trudged to the hall, the snake houses occupants not too far behind as they walked through the doors all lit with candles and torches on nearby walls.

Now this was definitely a sight to been seen in the Great Hall, Harry thought as he watched the houses students slowly file in groups of no more than six. The strange thing wasn't the buddy system though, at least not really. The strange thing was seeing all the students dressed in their nightwear, or lack there of in some cases and how differently it contrasted towards their school personality's at least in Harry's opinion. For instance Harry couldn't help but notice one Slytherin girl who was known to wear heaps of expensive makeup and jewelry on a day to day basis was instead rocking a pair of long plaid pajama pants that looked to be a thrift store buy and a shirt with an 80's rock band logo across it that went down to nearly her knees and wasn't form fitted. There of course were the exact opposites as well like the Hufflepuff girls in fourth year who all wore nearly see through satin nightgowns which left very little to the imagination of some seventh years in the Gryffindor house.

The guys wardrobe choices however were the most interesting to see. There was one guy in Gryffindor a year above Harry that was wearing pink hello kitty fleece bottoms and a skin tight shirt to match, needless to say many guys in the neighbouring houses were giving him some questioning looks as he buried his face in his palms. One Ravenclaw boy has n third year was wearing what looked to be a men's nightgown from the nineteen-thirties with the familiar buttoning at the back and collared top with long sleeves and cuffs. Yes, to say this was a sight to see wasn't at all a lie.

When everyone had arrived the teachers finally decided to stride into the hall, all of them looking to not be in the best of moods but then again, Harry thought, who would be after all they had to teach them all later that day. That was another sight Harry wasn't sure he could ever forget as his teachers were all still in their night clothing. Professor Sprout was actually wearing a night cap and a floor length night gown with the patterns of cactus' printed in green on it, and Professor Flitwich in a matching set of pin-stripe pyjama's not unsimilar to Ron's except better fitting. Snape actually had his chin length greasy mop tied back from his face in what looked to be a man bun, a long black fuzzy looking robe on and a scowl that could make the devil shiver in fear.

Though despite all these Dumbledore's own appearance had to top the cake. Dressed in a sunshine yellow matching flannel top and bottoms with small printed lollipops and other pink candies to decorate. He had his silvery beard in a long braid and his longer hair in light pink curlers. Harry along with the rest of the hall had to fight to keep from laughing. The mans face however was far from it's usual happy go lucky grin and had something akin to a scowl on it as he glanced through his half moon spectacles at all the students sitting out of bed at their respective tables.

"Evening children. It seems we have ourselves quite the predicament as I am told by the other teachers and various other someone's in the castle," He vaguely spokes as he waved his one hand in the air.

"For house of you who do not know, earlier this evening at about two thirty-six all of our castles houses were vandalized by an anonymous person and given an inscription that commanded them to arrive here." The man let out a sigh and met Harry's eyes with a dull blue gaze, "If anyone, though I doubt any of you do, knows who this was or why it has happened please step forward immediately and you will not face the numerous consequences your crime should have."

The empty threat hung their in the impenetrable silence for a moment or too before Gryffindors head house, still adorned in her own black robe and loose hair, stepped forward to speak on the podium next to the Headmaster.

"This tomfoolery is not to be taken lightly. These are serious crimes that need to be answered–" Though she never did get to finish her sentence as the halls torches suddenly went to a low glow all at once.

Shrieks of fear from first years could be heard as could the drawings of hidden wands form older students as they held them out like daggers in the low light. It was at that moment that Harry severely wished he hadn't left his own in his robe pocket in the floor of his dorm room. Thundering booms emitted from the falsely raining curling in the hall as dark clouds began to swirl about cashing severe unrest at the house tables as the Professors glanced around at all the exits.

_"Trouble will find you, trouble is near."_

A hoarse but manly whisper suddenly breaks out in the room, echoing off the walls and causing Harry to meet a frightened Hermione's eyes who was hugging her loose white shirt closer to her as if suddenly getting a chill.

_"Stand strong, be brave and never fear._

_He lurks in the shadows near your house._

_He's quiet as a mouse._

_He causes trouble here and there, he causes wars everywhere._

_Don't let that stop you, it's not who you think._

_Yes he is dangerous but not a Jinx"_

_"Stand tall, be bright, don't let this hardship end in a fight."_

The breeze in the hall suddenly changed directions, the thunder booming louder and even a small lash of lightning striking out towards the Charms Professor who let out an undignified shriek. The new voice erupts, clear like bells but stern and sharp, it was this that made Harry glance towards the staff table as he tried to not let his hands shake in fear and panic on what was going on. This never happens at Hogwarts, at least not since second year when the snake had gotten out and started killing people. But this was different, this was if possible more dangerous and more concerning.

_"Stop all conflict, find the solution._

_This could end in a huge revolution._

_The brains be ready, the knowledge is key, don't let these rhymes confuse thee."_

_"Kindness is key, friendship admired, you hold the lock to this flame on the fire."_

Then that voice is gone and another takes over, motherly and soft but rough and gravelly like the woman speaking and just woken from a long nap. The rumbling of thunder pauses and Harry cautions a glance over to the staff table only to see Professor Trelawney the Divination teacher scribing all she heard down on a crumpled looking scrap of parchment.

_"Love will prevail tonight and today, maybe not tomorrow because of its unforgivable ways."_

_"Ambition is great, cunning is smart."_

This was another man, not unlike the one before except his tone seemed to be degrading and sinister like. Harry was suddenly reminded of the voices that talked right before the villain of every action adventure movie let out an evil laugh.

_"But don't let this rhyme tear you apart._

_He has thoughts like you, looking for pleasure without pain._

_He's wrapped in darkness in a monthly kind of way._

_He hides in the shadows, the corners and Mirrors._

_He hides so well, he might disappear."_

_"Love will fall and then again rise."_

All the voices from above combined like that of a church choir all assigned to different keys and parts, except lacking the beauty of it all. It was rough but soft, course but fine. It was a contradiction and a paradox all in one and Hary couldn't help but think the same thing of its words.

_"I need you to be patient,_

_I need you to be wise._

_This may save a boy's life,_

_Or destroy ones heart._

_I know it's not ideal,_

_But children love is not smart."_


	9. six

06 - IMPRACTICAL PRANKS GONE 

WRONG 

The next thing that happened made many people within the room jump from the sudden sound, then like a domino affect, five third year Hufflepuff's ran over like the good samaritans they are and helped the woozy and unconscious kid up. Yes, believe it or not a kid actually fainted after the entire ordeal or spooky inscriptions and audios played like music for the entire hall. Fainted. Then again it wasn't as though Harry could say much about it as he fainted a few years prior to this simply because a soul sucking dementor showed on the Hogwarts Express looking for his wanted Godfather. Now that was sure a wild year.

She was maybe in year two, with a mess of blonde curls and very pale skin, though that could because she had just fallen off a bench and smacked her head on the cold stone floor. The Hufflepuff third years were currently walking her delicately over to Madam Pomfrey the schools med nurse to get her checked for a concussion. Every few steps Harry could see her stumble though from lack of balance and the one boy had to help in holding her up. Meanwhile after seeing this display the medinurse was already trotting her way quickly to the closest side for them to meet halfway, a penlight already in her left hand. While this all went down for everyone to plainly see, the rest of the students within the hall sat in various states of paranoid alertness and shock.

Harry noticed that the majority of the Gryffindor house and table all sat in deep thought and some talking quietly to one another attempting to figure out who would dare vandalize school property. Well at least most of them were, Fred and George were more or less hoping the could meet the guy who pulled it off and recruit them as they had enough balls to sneak into the Slytherin Dungeons and set off the Bloody Baron in screaming fits. Talk about talent there.

The Ravenclaws, as organized and thought out as they were, seemed to be scribbling something down on any available scraps of parchment they could find and one muggleborn girl was even writing out something on post it notes with a red ball point pen. Harry had half a mind to ask her for one as a quill was a lot of work to use, until he heard her rambling in a similar way to Hermione when she got excited about something to her other housemates who all nodded along and started to scribble faster.

The majority of the Hufflepuffs seemed to be stuck on wondering if their one housemate was okay and helping her to the table and asking if she was alright after her not so scary fall. One sixth year Prefect even offered to escort her back to their common rooms early. Harry was having to force himself not to shake his head at the over reacting they were doing to a teensy fall.

The Slytherin table, though Harry obviously didn't look at the snow blonde boy when taking note of this because they were enemies and enemies don't look at one another ever unless they were glaring. And that is also why Harry didn't take note of how the boy had his barely there eyebrows scrunched together in deep thought or that he was mindlessly staring off into space while tapping his long fingers quietly against the wooden table. No, Harry didn't notice this at all.

The staff members on the other hand all seemed to be taking the news and random voice audio of prophecy's all in different ways. Most of them all seemed to be confused and attempting to glance between one another with the standard 'what-the-hell-just-happened?-please-tell-me-someone-knows-what's-going-on!' face. And if they weren't doing that and staring off in space and shooting looks at one another they were either scribbling down long things on parchment scraps like the Ravenclaws, also known as Professor Trelawney and Sinistra. Or they were the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall who were in a very rushed conversation which ended with her glaring daggers at the man and him looking ready to cry with bloodshot eyes.

Though that all came swiftly to a stop when some blockheaded idiot in the hall –a seventh year Gryffindor naturally– decided to yell out a very ineloquent; "What the f*ck just happened?!"

Needless to say the kid was very swiftly told to watch his language, lost their house five points, putting them in the negatives, and gain detention after classes for a week straight with Proefessor McGonagall herself.

"In answer to your bluntly asked question, Mister Hawking," The Headmaster started to reply after a moments pause as he searches the crowd of students with wandering blue eyes, " I don't know."

With that simple statement the entire hall was in a stampede of panic. Students were standing up whipping their necks left and right around in fear as if waiting for the voice to reappear. Teachers started yelling at all the children to sit down and stay calm all the while one person, a certain red-haired boy to be exact with a long thin nose and shaggy hair stood on the top of Gryffindor table and proclaimed loud above everyone else. It was his voice calling out that made the hall fall to a unbreakable silence it seemed, where everyone could hear their neighbours heartbeats. "Don't know?!? How could you not know?! You're supposed to be the most brilliant man in the last century!"

"I assure you Mister Weasley everything will be alright." McGonagall stepped in without giving other staff members a chance to step in, with a stone cold facade in place and gaze set on only him. "We are going to deeply investigate the situation and find who is behind this ridiculous jest–"

"You can't honestly think this is a joke Professor!" Seamus joined in with Ron on the table, incredulously telling the woman his views. The two standing as united front on top of the table, staring at the woman in anticipation before another voice spoke up from across the hall.

"We had a damn ghost screaming bloody murder in our common room!" Some dark haired Slytherin girl called up from the far end of their table, "If someone calls that a practical joke, Fun fact! It's not funny!"

A series of cacophony's then proceeded all around Harry as different houses called up what happened to them from the mystery havoc wrecker. Hufflepuff's sprinklers went off in the common room along with their bells to alert them of a fire only to rush down to see nothing but the water raining down and making an inscription in its puddles like that in he Gryffindor tower only not in shards of broken glass. The Ravenclaws were awakened with their grand piano –which apparently they had inside– playing a spooky ass Beethoven song with no one sitting at its keys. Pages had been ripped out and sprawled like confetti across the room. Newspaper clippings wth large headliners of words were then cut out and nailed to the piano with a rusty nail. Gryffindor was with the smashed window and glass doing funky stuff, and Slytherin with the freaked out ghosts who wouldn't say anything about what they saw. Out of all of them Harry was the most freaked out from the Ravenclaw one as not many people knew the Beethoven theme song and that would be creepy as hell to wake up too.

"Silence! Silence Please!" Harry could barely hear as he snapped back to the present seeing his Head of House barely keep it together as she called for the halls attention though no one bothered to listen. However it didn't last long until the suddenly magnified voice of the infamous Headmaster Dumbledore reverberated off the walls into a deafening echo of loudness.

"ATTENTION!!!"

A beat of quiet took hold of the room.

"Now would everyone please, not panic." He started off with as he once again reclaimed his spot at the podium adorned in his bright clothed pyjamas. "Prefects and current Heads of Houses would you please lead your students back to their current stays of residence. Your dorms and common rooms have been restored to their previous states and be noted that a member of staff will be patrolling your dwellings of rest for the remainder of the night until we catch who is the culprit of this hideous crime." At this Professors Snape, McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick all stiff and went to lead them out of the hall all looking it be on edge from the strange encounter as well.

After meeting the Professors eyes the Headmaster then ended with a sigh and single dismissal, "Now then, off you trot as you all have a full day of classes starting at nine."

The walk back to the tower was an eeeie one at that. Every corner they took and every unnecessary slow down Harry was glancing over his shoulder. The clatter of shoes and sock covered feet echoed through the beginnings of the morning lit halls as their Head of House lead them farther and farther away from the safeties of the hall. They walked in a grouped cluster with all four houses until the Ravenclaws branched off with the Hufflepuff's as they started their fast paced walk to their own end of the castle together, the Ravenclaws to their north tower and the Hufflepuff's to the third corridor on the second floor.

Then their were only two, the Slytherins with their least favoured house at their side as the glided through the halls in masses of dark colours. Though the snake house pulled in front of them after a while, Their Head of House seeming to have finished his conversation with their own and sped off towards the dungeons leaving his students to scramble behind him. The entire house had dispersed down their long windy staircases just as the Gryffindors stared to pass by.

Harry, and his two faithful sidekicks were at the back of the long pack simply in no hurry to follow and more or less enjoying their own voices to fill the silence as they guessed about what was behind their weird prophesied announcement. Harry speculated something along the lines of someone trying to spook and lure him out to kill him. Ron was thinking a prank gone really, really wrong and Hermione wasn't entirely sure, thinking maybe it was Hogwarts giving them a sort of warning, after all apparently Hogwarts was literally alive with magic and able to give off short bursts at necessary times. Both the boys without even thinking far into it called her a whack job.

A ways behind the pack of students the three were just walking past the open mouth of the dungeons when their ears were suddenly alerted with a loud screech of pain and shoutings of people to gather the school nurse. Hermione, the clever witch, clutched onto Harry's wrist with an impressive amount of force and said sternly with a hard glint in her chocolatey eyes, "No Harry,"

Though I bet you can imagine how well that worked on the naturally curious and recklessly stupid boy. He pulled away from her without a second thought as he started to jog down the stairway and farther into the dungeons, reminding him uncomfortably about his second year and the last time he took this entrance to the infamous snake den. On his way down, Harry had to flatten himself tightly against the shadows of the stone wall, as the lumbering forms of Crabbe and Goyle pushed by most likely in pursuit to find the medinurse that someone had hastily called for.

Harry has nearly ten more steps to go, when he abruptly heard the horrendous sounds and nearly tripped over his own feet in the process of rushing down the stairs a little faster. The sickening gasps in between dry heaves nearly making his own stomach flip. Harry has just reached the bottom of the steps, where a new torches light shone down at him, showing his dark bed hair and mismatching plaid bottoms and grey handme down from Dudley. Though the torches light didn't only show Harry, as for him it also showed the pitiful sight of Draco Malfoy crouched in the floor in what seemed to be excruciating pain as a dark skinned boy rubbed circles along his spine and told him to calm down with a poker face of a true gambler.

Harry couldn't even stop himself from taking three more steps forward and alerting the two Slytherins of his presence as he aches to help them both. However it seemed he only made it worse as the blonde shivered like getting dropped in the middle of the arctic and spasmed like an epileptic child without its daily meds.

He had thought he might be going mad from the unsuspecting wake up call but seeing this made Harry realize just how lucky he was that he wasn't a certain blonde haired Slytherin at the present time.


	10. seven

07 - SICKLY ENCOUNTERS

Harry stood staring at the horrific scene much longer than considered normal or polite, simply immobilized on the staircase at the arrogant boy he barely knew spasming and shaking like a leaf while the other student attempted furiously to calm him down. The cacao skinned boy with charcoal eyes was rhythmically running his one catchers mitt for hands along the shaking boy's spine of his night shirt in soothing strokes, calming telling him to slow down and try to breath. That he needed to breath. That he needed to slow everything he could down. Though his calm facade didn't last long, when catching the glimpse in his peripheral vision of Harry standing like a gale mouthed fool at the scene.

"Get out of here, Potter!" He hissed between clenched teeth at the boy whom he had grown to slowly dislike more and more due to their frequent venomous encounters. "You'll only make it worse!"

Try to his word it seems just at the name of Harry, the blondes body went rigid as a boss once again and a painful sounding groaning left the heaping body of the shaking boy, as tremors took over his body. Instantly Blaise Zabini, as Harry recognized him after getting a closer oil at his facial structure, changed his focus to the blonde and started to comfort him in saying the nurse would arrive soon and that he wouldn't be in much pain any longer. Harry however though most of these things he were saying were blatant lies, after all he knew for a fact that both of the lumbering idiots that had stomped up the stairs were many things but one of the things they so promptly weren't was fast. Cursing himself internally at how stupid he was being and how it's probably going to blow up in his face in the end, Harry took a few tentative steps closer and leaned down next to the blonde on the other side and glanced at Blaise, who was glaring holes into his face in barely concealed rage.

"Are you deaf you numbskull?" He spat like a whisper as he kept attempting to comfort the writhing boy, "Leave."

Meanwhile the blonde curled on his naked, clutching his hands to his chest as whimpers fell form his partially opened mouth. The dark haired boy then noticed that his eyes were tightly closed shut as he wrung at his hands liked his finger tips were on fire and he was trying to forcibly put them out.

"Look," Harry spoke quietly his eyes never bothering to leave the others charcoal gaze, "He needs Madam Promfey and you know as well as I that any minute longer away from medical care could be serious."

Harry licked his dry lips while the other semi-conscious boy had his face in a hard unmovable frown. "Let me help carry him to the wing, because Merlin knows you can't by yourself."

Blaise did not speak for some time, instead staring at the multiplying ounce of liquid starting to appear as sweat on his friends pale brow as he shook either from the pain or cold. Harry refuses to meet either of the boys eyesC though one probably didn't even have his open at the moment, and instead waited like on a tightrope counting the cobblestones in the hallway. He got all the way to thirty-six, before Blaise finally cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Help me lift him then Potter," He begrudgingly said with something akin to a sneer on his usually unmarred features before adding, "And I swear on my mothers life that if you bring this up to him or any of your friends you will be answering to my wand point."

Recalling last year when their last defence teacher had praised the boy loads of times on his curses and stance when learning the basics of duelling harry gulped the build by bike in his throat. "You have my word, I'm not one to kick the puppy when it's down."

"Yes well it hasn't stopped you before now has it," He scathingly remarked as he slowly sat the blonde up with his own hands while Harry helped raise him to his weak knees. Together they managed to manoeuvre him so the blondes arms were across both of their shoulders and harry was stationed on one side to hold that weight and Blaise on the other. Much to Blaise's discomfort as well, he noticed how his best friends head seemed to bob in the middle of his chest until it was circled into the shoulder of Harry's and mumbling nonsense under his breath.

Climbing the stairs upwards to the first floor form the dungeons was defiantly the highlight of the entire trip, as all three boys were stumbling and hastily trying to get up them before dropping the blonde form twisting their own bodies so much they could fit. They started going side ways, both soon found that it didn't work to well. After that they tried walking side by side which proved just bad if not worse, so in the end when they finally got to the top and in the middle of the hall, Both Harry and Blaise were out of breath as they shakily supported the boy in between him who was like pulling a brimful bag of potatoes across a desert. They didn't wait long however, as the blonde let out a long whimper of pain as he nearly curled in on them and his one hand shot out an clutched tightly onto Harry's side, making him yell form the sudden touching thing. After all the only time the tow ever did have physical contact was when they were punching or shoving one another.

"Let's get him to the nurse," Blaise huffed trying to stomach the thought of what Draco would do upon hearing all that he did after all, it's not like he wasn't going to not tell him. But not he won't lie that he had half a mind not to. He would be absolute mortified and most likely lock his leg up in his room for a week at the least from knowing that he both snuggled and reached out for his well known Arch-Nemesis more times then one when he was unwell.

"Agreed," Harry simply responded as he resided himself to move and together they started again, half dragging half carrying the unwell boy in their arms as they wandered down the long corridor to find the nursemaid. Like suspected when they got close enough to see the room they were greeted with nothing but the one flickering torch by the door as the rest of the hallway was dark as the windows were all covered with curtains and drapes longer than possibly a red carpet.

Though their silence of whimpers and casualty pants of breath did not last as long as they figured as they attempted to walk through the doors when the quickening footsteps of pointy shoes lead them to believe that someone was walking very quickly behind them. Correct in their assumptions however though, as when they turned around they were met with the wrinkled but kindly woman face of Madam promoter who didn't waste a second in magicking Draco from between their arms and suspending the air by an invisible bed, leaving the two to helplessly stare at her.

"Apparently Mister Crabbe and Mister Goyle were not wrong in your current predicament. Now boys might you please tell me what exactly has happened to Mister Malfoy in your presence tonight?" Only needed that, Blaise then fully fell into recounting everything that had been going on with blonde regarding his health which had been declining slowly since this morning on the train. Harry stood by him and just laughed as well throwing in what he had noticed – obviously getting a few strange looks about some of it – during his not so subtle starring sessions as Hermione called them all of last year. Honestly he's not obsessed with him.

A half hour later, Blaise and Harry are kicked swiftly out of the nurses room and from the wing and entirely and ordered to go to bed immediately as they have classes the next morning. Unsure of what else they could do, they follow the woman's instructions head off in their own directions without a single word to one another. On his way up the tower Harry couldn't help but hope the blonde would be fine and that he just got a nasty flu bug or something equally simple of that nature.


	11. eight

08 - NEVER ENDING NIGHTS

Madame Pomfrey has treated hundreds upon hundreds of children throughout her years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry both as an interning student under her predecessors watch and finally just as herself once she had finished all her medical training. Training of magic was not an uncommon thing in her household having been raised in a magical village with her mother and father as workers in the Ministry. Though if she were to compare any of her lessons in the medical world from a muggle to a wizards there would be hardly any differences. Both started with the basics of training in CPR, a standard procedure of working a defibrillator and how to wrap bandages around a wound properly. There were some key procedure based differences she had found in her line of work though and one of such she as never had to use... at least not until now.

She was not in her younger years, not by any means as she had been at the magical school for almost longer than the present Headmaster himself. Due to her lengthy term she was not at all surprised when students suddenly ended up ill or passing out unconscious with no rhyme or reason to it, at least not until she understood the purpose behind the problem. Most children she has learned at the school fall ill quicker when drained of most of their magical core, which only grows and strengthens within the wizards or witches spine throughout their years of living. It continues to grow not unlike a persons knowledge until the ends of their days. Though the nurse, has never had to watch through her specialized screens of magic as the wizards core attacked its own body and life force.

Upon seeing the strands of magic, weaving and unweaving meticulously from the spinal fluid and casing of the back of the neck, heart and lungs, she watched as bands broke off and attempted to break through the boy's tissue infused firewalls surrounding the vital organs. Though the firewalls were weakened to the point of unrest that they wouldn't withstand much longer without help. Without much more minutes to spare she sent out a call to the Headmaster to bring both Severus and Minerva to her quarters immediately as they had a stage three, code blue at the moment and she needed a stable source of both magic and knowledge to help her procure a possible cure for the dying boy.

Whilst waiting for the other adults to arrive the bigger and motherly depicted woman bustled about in her private stockpiles of medicinal supplies, glancing at half corroded or dusted away labels in hopes for one particular concoction to be present. Her usually tidy hair pulled back from her face now had irritating stripes of grey falling into her eyesight as she pulled and shoved multiple bottles around until she finally found the one she was looking for. It was no wider than that of her pink and only as tall up to her first forefinger's knuckle. Glowing in the absence of the usual bright hours of sunlight it shone a iridescent orange like that of a lit Jack O' lantern. She quickly swiped the bottle into her aprons baggy pouch, which she had strapped on as soon as the two boys had left the Hospital Wing much to her persisting and then scurried off to her other well locked cabinet in her office which held all her healing herbs and sets of equipment that wasn't used in a regular day to day basis. That meaning no tweezers, or everyday bandaids could be found.

After unlocking her keep with a quick whip of her wand, she grabbed onto her stone mixing bowl and her mashing stick which was smooth all the way around, especially the bottom, and took it outside to the boy who waited still in his comatose state on the gurney. She wasted no time in swiping a packet of wheat seeds and monkshood from its usual hanging spot above the beds, and took three cloves/petals of each and placed in the bowl and magicked them to life in their confident grinding state as she attempted to uncork the liquid from her spot above the boy.

The boy didn't so much as twitch or whimper as she watched him carefully in hopes that nothing else will show as she started her dangerous venture but like most things, she never did receive the easy answer. It was ten minutes before her door was busted down by the sweeping of black robes from the Potions Professor and the tired eyes of both Minerva and Albus striding in the room that she saw them. Hiding earlier on from the boys long sleeves of night clothes but as the sun started to shine brighter into the room with every passing minute at dawn she saw them. Curling like untameable vines of ivy across his porcelain skin winding around his cold fingertips and traveling upwards until the dispersed underneath the cloth. Pomfrey felt her breathing shorten and her eyesight widen at the marks of it. She had studied them in school though they were proclaimed myth but her barmy Professor had thought it good for all his students to know about the ways of treating ailments in the past. She could see just below his lowriding collar of his shirt the beginnings of the thorn-ed vines hiking their way up to his throat, it was then that she threw the previously corked liquids in with the herbed mixture and swiped a lazy dollop on his sweat sheen-ed temples.

The woman didn't know what to think at this time, as the Professors charged with a mixture of pity and horror scalping her features. She had never had to treat something so unknown, something proclaimed untreatable. Sure, she had learned it all giving her profession, and thank Merlin for that as Albus kept throwing more things of terror her way. She thought she had seen the last of horrible things done to students with Dippet's own version of containing them being the whomping willow. But here in the last few years she had treated children who should only be there because they are ill from a flu bug or Merlin forbid measles but instead she treated petrified ghosts and students because of a basilisk stalking the halls. She has cured dementor brought on panic attacks with those who no longer have anything left but a home at Hogwarts as their minds are too clogged with misery and heartbreak from their own. She has wrapped the burns of those from flame spewing dragons in an idiotic tournament that shouldn't be legal for children, but for some reason was. She had thought she had seen the horribleness of it all but Lady Magic be damned was she wrong. She was so very, very wrong.

"Poppy," The voice with a tongue of liquid sweetness and eyes bluer than the cerulean sky on calm days spoke up. He strode into the room with confidence but weary with his lack of sleep prominent in his eyes, and his clothing still the same as it were at the hall maybe an hour before.

"Is that–" he cleared his throat and tried again, "Is that Mister Malfoy?"

"You know it is, sir." She started, her voice sounding weaker than it was as she turned her attention from him and to her bowl of paste before meeting Minerva's eyes. She herself, looked none better than the Headmasters, with her own eyes thick with sleep, "And I'll have you know that it was Mister Potter and company that dragged him here. "

"Potter?" Minerva spoke as if in a trance though her frown deepened in a way only a motherly patron's could with intentions of scolding her young. Poppy or Madame Pomfrey as the children knew her commonly, almost felt bad on ratting on the boy.

"It doesn't matter how he got here," Severus stepped in with his usual cold and cynical tone as he stared down at the statute like copy of his godson on the bed, noticing the black vines with his eyes widening in both recognition and undetermined fear. "What matters is that he was here and may Merlin curse me for my words, that he got here safely even if it was Potter who brought him."

"Mister Zabini was in his company though he seemed much less frazzled by his state which leads me to the assumption that similar signs of unwell ness have fallen onto the Malfoy heir." Poppy concluded finally before adding as she stole her gaze back from the Professors and slightly slipped up the boy's sleeve up his wrist to show the growing signs of vines crawling on his skin for them to see before adding in her defeated tone, "My only thoughts are in what to do now."

Minerva let out a gasp as she saw the effects and glanced almost instinctively at the Headmaster, while Severus remained unchanged in both facial and physical expression, his eyes only staring at the marks with its cold empty glare.

"He will need to be taken into isolation and quarantine until any further actions can be done in respects to his treatment." Severus ordered before meeting the medical witches eyes with his own empty ones while her haze led ones darted around in case of lingering ears in the room.

"I want an explanation," Poppy spoke as if it were her right to know and that had something to bargain with. "If I am going to be treating him I need to know what's going on, all of it."

"I'm afraid that is not a call I can make–" The Potions Professor started to say in his same monotone voice, only changing in variation at the clippings of some words.

"Bullshit you arrogant fool. You know as well as I from the training we went through in both potions and learning of magical substances what those markings mean," She spat at the man in a spall burst of fury at the man who so obviously knew this for longer than her and held it to himself though it could have killed him if not checked up on. Hence why it is killing him now.

"I demand an answer to my reasonable questions."

Watching the soaring battle go between his two staff members without hesitation he lowly dismissed Minerva from the room with promises to let her know the specifics in the morning and instead to get what few hours of prepping and sleep she could muster before nine o'clock. Once he watched her leave the room he returned to the conversation of the two battling it out like an old married couple, and attempted to intervene himself.

"Severus, perhaps–"

"It is not my secret to throw out about, Headmaster." The man defiantly claimed without missing a beat at the attempts of the man to unravel his thoughts and his knowledge on the subject. Unbeknown to all the occupants in the room, including the comatose boy who didn't so much as flinch at the rising of voices so close, Severus may be a secretive man but he is loyal. He may have sworn unwavering loyalty as a spy to Albus Dumbledore for his long dead love of Lily but he chose to be loyal to his surrogate family and all their secrets. "If Poppy wants her answer than she should ask the woman who gave this child his birthright."

"Oh yes," Poppy Pomfrey began with a touch of venom in her usually sweet and calming voice. Her eyes were narrowed in at the man in black with nothing kin to kindness of compassion towards his words and only simple fury. She didn't hesitate long in her thoughts before continuing to run her flapper.

"And I'm sure that will go along just splendidly to the Lady Malfoy won't it," She spat with malicious intents as her eyes bored into the man's who refused to leave her gaze though showed no backing down in his stance on things. With that she then mocked a conversation on how she assumed it would go in a voice much more snooty sounding than her own.

"Oh yes, M'Lady Malfoy sorry to bother you this afternoon, but I was wondering if you could explain why your son is bearing the markings of a long extinct hereditary curse?" She laughed cruelly with no signs of stopping in getting her harsh point across as she sarcastically snapped. "Yes, that sounds like a fantastic idea, Severus! Why didn't I think of it before?!"

The man Severus goes to return his own venomous dialect only to be stopped by the rising of the old man's hand next to him in a hope to refrain his speech while saying in his same calm and collected voice that sounded similar to most of a grandfather figure.

"Enough the both of you," He said simply glancing back between the two like they were young misbehaving children. "Meaningless mumbles of harshly stated words are pointless at this moment in time. Right now we need to take care of this child."

"Yes well," The woman started to speech, acting similar to a bird if their feathers had been ruffled and plucked in some spots accidentally. "I would be doing so properly if I had anything to work with–"

"Poppy," The grandfather figure scolded with an unusual scowl at her in degradation while the man in black still stared off with no emotion across his face besides the small glimmer of a smirk that vanished no sooner than it had come.

"I apologize Headmaster."

Taking in no knowledge that she had even spoke, the Headmaster turned to the Potioneer and began to recite in near prefect memory, staring directly at the man in attempts to get a full read on him.

"You said once Severus, that the Malfoy's trust you like a blood relative of family and treat you as such."

"I did," He replied after a moments pause as if he had just sucked back the bitterness of a lemon with the tartness in his works.

"You also said," The grandfather continued, watching him like a hawk does it's prey from above. Carefully and patiently, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. "That in the Malfoy family and bloodline, they only value one thing before themselves in their own greed and self drive of self preservation and that's their family."

The look of sourness never left the man's face but his eyes glittered dangerously for the first time during the entire spectacle concerning the boy, the colour of the dustiest ash of charcoal. "I did."

"Then I presume you know where I'm going with this." The man spoke finally watching the other meet his eyes with nothing but simple understanding and the under meaning of a near order disguised as a statement.

"I do."

Without the man going to move or offering anything else to him, the Headmaster spoke uncertainly, his blue eyes sharpening in focus and peculiarity at the man, also as if he was making sure the man understood what he was asking. Pomfrey didn't wish to know the consequences if he didn't.

"... And?"

"And," Severus started, his chin rising just slightly as he stared at man with his crooked nose gleaming in the approaching lights of the sun. "You should be expecting to host both Lord and Lady Malfoy by tomorrow evening at the latest."

"Very well then," The Headmaster stated grimly before steeling his gaze on the only female occupant in the room who looked both worried and confused at the concealed words spoken between the other two. "Poppy, I believe this is where I will take my leave."

A moment of pause while he tossed a meaningless glance towards the man in black next to him before speaking, "Severus, I trust you to help Poppy in anything she shall require in your assistance. Thus including brewing or medicinal facts that could help in keeping Mister Malfoy both safe and healthy until his parents arrive later next evening."

The man simply nodded while speaking the dismissive but not disrespectful words, "Will do, sir."

With nothing left to do, be said or done in the ways of himself the Headmaster then promptly left the Medical Wing leaving behind the two Professors and the still unconscious fifteen year old boy. He hopped in his journey along and through the corridors that he would be able to return to his quarters for some well needed rest after the nights events but knew know such thing was likely possible with the sun already up though barely in the after dawn morning and the whistles of birds already heard form the Forrest not so far away. Meanwhile he walked and walked farther and farther away the black clad man and the school nurse once again fell into exchanging barbs of words at once another while they proceeded blindly in what to do in hopes of keeping the boy alive. After all, Severus neither knew a lot or was willing to share what he did know with the woman. Therefore it was down to Poppy in trying to figure out what to do, especially after the man had all but stomped out of the room in fit when she had unkindly commented that if he was just going to nitpick at her job he could leave.

And leave he did, so the woman busied herself in rolling the boy into a private ward on the gurney and setting him up on muggle styled fluids and other devices to keep him hydrated and without pain using balms and potions. It wasn't a lot she could do, but she did what she could.

She just prayed that it would be enough.


	12. nine

09 - CONFESSIONS THROUGH 

BEDTIME STORIES

As far as wake up calls went, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy could honestly say that nothing is more frightening than being woke up at the pre-dawn hours by a barn owl screeching like mad and pecking angrily with its beak at his bedroom window.

It was nearly three in morning, much too early for any wizard to be awake at that hour, at the infamous Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, England. The Manor stood like it always had, tall and forbidding to all visitors with its gothic valedictorian styled architecture and fanciful curled iron gates and well maintained and tamed gardens. Peacocks of all sizes littered the perfectly trimmed lawn and the stone steps were polished and swept to impeccable standards. No lights could be seen through the windows with all the drapes pulled tight to keep out the unwanted light and the occasional sounds of nearby woodland creatures in the distance that could be vaguely heard. If any muggle were to see the place they would joke that only a vampire could live in such a house or a lonely man who though wealthy as can be chose the life of a hermit. Not that the Malfoy's would ever associate with what they so easily called filth.

Despite no lights and no signs of life to be seen from the extravagant home, two people within its chambers were hurrying about in an unusual way as they sprinted from room to room whilst yelling at one another. Lord Malfoy, commonly known by 'friends' as simply Malfoy Sr. or Lucius, was a strict and well mannered man who believed in the monarchy of traditionalism and therefore was not at all pleased to be summoned like a common peasant by a less than well groomed owl to the Headmaster of his eldest's school. His wife however, was not at all sharing his tiff towards the summoning and was prancing around in a rush to get dressed and groomed whilst ordering her personal house elf Morita to pack all her necessities for a few days away from home. Morita, like all house elves duty was to her master and mistress, this being Lady Malfoy. Her duty was to serve her until her end unless dismissed by the said woman. She was better kept than most elves seen in public with proper fitting attire though not the cleanest out there, and her skin cleansed and shinny including her large bat-like ears.

The Lady Malfoy, Narcissa as some she was known as, was a very snobbish woman with an attitude and contempt that she was above most and owed the world nothing. She took pride in her heritage not unlike her husband and refused to go anywhere unfitting to her standards. Though despite her pride and cold shoulder like attitude she was an exceptional mother with the caring and temperament needed to deal with two very prideful and snarky men, one being her own child. She hastily shrugged on her silver and black lined wizarding robes and dashed a sprinkle of white powder across her aristocratic face, unlike usual as she usually heaped the materials on when going out. The woman's hair though done in fancy knots was falling out at edges much unlike usual and stringy strands of silver mixed into her fair blonde could be seen if looking close enough.

Her husband wasn't any better for wear, though he undoubtedly had less to do in the ways of getting ready. Lucius wasted no time in ordering his own elves to work in packing and had slipped on his own dark robes and cuff links embroidered with the Malfoy's crest long before even his wife had finished her curled hair. He hadn't thought twice before clipping back his long fair hair not unlike to his wifes' in an elegant black ribbon, as he grabbed his club-like cane and marched towards the fireplace to leave to the Headmaster's office. They left not moments later, both clutching their bags like lifelines and still shouting out the orders to their elves on what to do in their absence all the while being transported by floo to the Headmaster's office.

The letter and the owl long forgotten in their haste to leave, was left to be tended by the elves who all decided anonymously not to read nor write anything in return and instead let the owl return to its keep at the school. After all, they all know the consequences of when an elf read their masters mail and did something to purposely act out against them, Dobby the house-elf who never fit in to the system quite right, being the prime example.

"Dumbledore, I demand an explanation at once! You have your lackey and my own close friend, nearly kin in the eyes of our sacred law summon my wife and I in the dead of night with nothing but a poorly executed lie about my sons welfare and superstitions of a creature inheritance–"

The shouts and arguments of the wizards echoed all around the sphere shaped room at the highest rooms of the privates chambers of the headmasters office. The chairs littered around the room along with the baubles collected over generations of years all standing our peculiarly alongside one another. A mobile holding the ideas of the night sky's planetary rotations and constellations floated magically along the ceilings, the stars casting lights to the higher areas. Chairs of all fabrics and all styles moseyed about the room like lost fragments of thoughts with no particular arrangement or pattern. The elderly man sat behind his well known mahogany desk covering perch, the pictures of long deceased headmasters and mistresses around him, along with a few scattered about in the opposite walls. He was smiling up at man with a grin most pleasant as the blonde continuances to chew him out in matters that he seemed to have no interest in at all.

Seeming to finally have enough backlash of the influential man's chatter and accusations of false-ery and tricks that were none his own, he tried to calm the man with his same relaxed composure. Though it only seemed to aggravate the man more by the looks of his now reddening face, and his wife's steel grip hold on his arm.

"Lucius, I beg you to give me a chance to explain–"

"We are not on well enough terms for first names Headmaster," The man, Lucius, shot back with a tongue full of malicious venom, not noticing the arrival of a man and woman Professor behind in their own sets of new clothing. It seemed as though this night never ended for either of them as they both looked not at all well rested despite it being well into the morning and the days first classes only a half hour away from beginning. This being know by the lights from the floor to ceiling window panes and the rocking clock on the wonky man's desk.

"–I demand some answers!"

"And you will get them when you stop acting like a pigheaded fool!" A new voice entered the conversation. One tight with respect for the Grandfather-y man and full of degradingly down talking to the man who so thought he was above everyone else in the room. "Now you would do well to sit down and compose yourself."

The man behind the desk simply gave a small smile to the woman, her hair pulled right in a knot at the nap of her neck and her green robes dark but threaded with gold that shine in the early light, "Thank you, Minerva."

The woman in return gave a stiff nod but didn't let her eyes waver form the man now more red than white in the face with a sneer curling maliciously onto his bloodless thin lips. Lady Malfoy, however decided form then on to take the lead in the one sided conversation in hopes to tame her enraged husband. After all it wasn't he who had the answers, but her. She knew this day was coming, sooner than she had hoped and yet she had failed to warn her one and only son. She had failed both him and her family's honour in doing so. In holding onto wisps of fading hopes in that it to was all just a very bad dream in which she can ignore well enough that it will go away.

"Lucius, love. Let the Headmaster speak before you let your silver-tongue slip away from you." She murmured quietly in a voice full of tenderness and calm, though her hand still clutched at the man's elbow around his slippery robes.

The bearded man gave a small smile to woman full of poorly concealed weakness before speaking in his raspy but strong voice that commanded most peoples respect. "As I was saying, you both were called here tonight in hopes to explain why your son has been suddenly admitted into the hospital wing with traces of disease unheard of and thought extinct from many generations before his time."

The silver haired man made a sound similar to a unimpressed grunt or a sarcastic and degrading 'pfft!' in attempt to dismiss the unlikely hood of what they are claiming true.

"Mister Malfoy, I beg that you understand this with great importance the risk your child is at right now–" The Professor began to say in blatant irritation to the man who seemed uninterested in his own child's well fair despite the severity of it all. Even the greasy haired Potions Professor looked annoyed with the man's dismissal of the news.

"And I beg you, Headmaster, to not stick your abnormally crooked nose into Malfoy affairs." The blonde retorted, heaved in a level of snark that even the red horned devil would find most unpleasant.

"Lucius enough!" His wife finally shouted at the man, promptly letting go of his arm and turning to him madder than wet hen. Her eyes blazing in their usually emotionless blue depths a feisty red and brown shade.

After finally shutting up the man whom she was wedded to she flipped her attention to the headmaster with a facial expression which only showed concern and worry for her ill son. "What symptoms is he showing professors? How far along is his transition?

"Transition?" Her husband spoke up once more, his tone betraying how pissed off he was at her interruption and how she proceeded to handle it. No one ever talked to him that way, much less his wife in front of less superiors. That talk was for behind closed doors where he could keep tight raps and attempt to still hold the title of man in the house instead of being controlled and persuaded into listening to his wife's beck and call. He may wear the pants in the household but his wife was the thick black belt around the waist. "Narcissa, don't tell me you believe this codswallop this man is throwing at you?"

"Yes I do, Lucius because believe it or not it is true!" She shouted at the man, finally with a look that sealed the end of the discussion before adding more for his benefit than her own. "Granted earlier than I had both hoped and imagined it would be but true nonetheless."

"Narcissa, our son did not receive an inheritance," The man hissed with narrowed eyes, his tone sounding dark and foreboding at the time though it seemed to have no effect on the woman next to him looking to be holding back a nearly concealed blinding rage. "Centuries has passed without incidents in the Malfoy bloodline!"

"It takes two bloodlines to create a child Lucius!" She spat up at the man she had grown to love and cherish in her home before continuing on a rambling tone that got higher and higher as she spoke as worry and fear crammed into her jaw and came out in the never ending sentences and examples.

"Two people, two sets of DNA and two magical cores!"

"It can't be true–"

"Lucius, Merlin be damned at my mentioning, Draco has creature blood running through his veins just like my sisters!" She snapped finally at the man, her resolve vanishing form sight as she let her rage consume her for the first time in many years. "Just like me! Dormant it may be but for him it is not!"

Her breathing now short and heavy, seeming to suck all the happiness form the room as her rage progressed into her lecture like that of anger and reasoning. "Now you either mature and act like the adult and father you are, or you leave this room and don't bother to ever contact the two of us again!"

Lucius didn't so much as mutter a single syllable to his now quieted wife and the echoes of her yells running rampant in the ears of those in the room. The Potions and Transfiguration Professor both silently stood thanking their lucky stars to not have been on he receiving end of the enraged woman. While during a go this the Headmaster just pleasantly waited for their quarrel to ceases as he twirled a single strand of his long beard with a pondering expression.

"In answer to your previous questions," the Headmaster has stared to say after the couple had taken a break from the evened state the two had fell into and retuned their attention back to himself. After all, what was the point in speaking something no one cared to listen to? Wasteful and a poor excuse to use your vocal cords on. "Draco has just started his transition into his inheritance we would assume though we have no idea into what besides it being old, long forgotten and terribly unpredictable because of it."

The headmaster paused before gazing over his half moon spectacles at the woman more so than the man, "Any insight at all would be needed and shared."

"I-I don't know much I'm afraid," The woman stumbled uselessly, her eyes wandering form the man's to her fidgeting fingers that played with the wedding bands on her ring finger.

"After his birthing my sister had visited and explained she had felt his aura get taken hold by something within his bloodstream," She paused as she nibbled on the left corner of her chapped and makeup less lips, "Wound tightly into his heartstrings."

"Anything at all would be of help," the headmaster persisted further having no real sense of boundaries of overstepping his place in the way of knowledge or solving something similar to a puzzle. Essentially that's all the young Malfoy heir was to him right now, a puzzle. A puzzle in which he has been given the pieces to complete and mend in the areas in which no one could understand or figure out. "Family history records, maybe some tests of allergies or something moderately similar to narrow the results in the search for the missing variable?"

Narcissa gave an unhelpful shake of her head before saying, almost timidly in front of the man completely disregarding all her previous anger and rage filled mentions at the man who had skunk back towards the corner of the room next to the darkly robed Potions Professor. In a way, Narcissa was glad her husband had left her said as it made the entire process of everything a little easier to beware without his judgmental scrutiny as she laid herself and all her secrets bare.

"Well," she started quiet but defiant, "There is the generations of familia lore. It was told as simple nights tales and bedtimes story in our youth to teach us lessons our ancestors didn't learn."

The Headmaster met the woman's eyes with his own pearly blues as if to wordlessly encourage her to continue on.

"They were simple tales not unlike the ones written in perhaps Beadle and the Bard or another historical children's story." She paused slightly as she wetter her pink lips and met his gaze once more as she spoke, "The only setting them apart is the fact that they included our ancestors names and the lessons were always something more gore-ish and brutal in the way of learning things."

"Could you perhaps repeat it?" Minerva, the Transfiguration Professor asked as she stepped closer to the professor on the one side and glanced a neutral look at the woman. It was no secret that Minerva held nothing short of civility towards the Malfoys having come from a similar upbringing as Lucius, minus the blood supremacy lessons and more emphasis on morality and thinking only the best of everyone.

"Perhaps," She replied in a similar tone giving no hint to whether she was going to do as the woman asked or not. Only the small sound of her explaining towards the floor and then beginning to speak of her ancestral take did the Professors start to analysis all that she spoke.

As she rehearsed what memorized of the tale she had and felt herself slip years in the past and picture her mother coming in later in the night to whisper the tales to them all. Or her father giving them coco on nights filled with nightmares and explaining the importance of their heritage or nurturing her sisters in the ways they needed for the extra peculiarity. It wasn't long into her tale that she lost herself in the telling and it seemed as though everyone else lost themselves in their thoughts of the tale and the pondering a of their own mind.

**_Centuries, possibly even decades before the Ministry of Magic and the consuming worry of suspicious muggles, the Noble Black family stood at the top of the ancestry tree followed by the Notts and Demenzel. Named the most powerful, successful and worthy of their birthright the Blacks advanced and grew in the spotlight of all families. Intelligence and gifts were often bestowed upon the Black heirs, but one heir to the infamous Giovani Black named Orion excelled in magical not practiced or well thought of in the family. With his knack of individuality from his family and breaking form the small sense of traditionalism many people grew curious or fearful of the young man. Despite the fear circulating around him with rumours he grew a respect from others that his father had not. Witty and ambitious to prove himself to his father in the ways that one can be great without conning his way into it, Orion set out for ways to both gain his fathers attention and praise but something equally benefiting to his standards as well._**

**_He had traveled far and wide looking for such gifts and quests to prove himself when one afternoon all his desires flew out into the smog filled air of Stalingrad, Russia. He had just been declined an apprenticeship laced of more advanced witchery when he first heard the cries in the nearby Forrest. Curiosity being his main call to the depths of greenery as the cries grew more pain filled and struck with agony as he ventured closer to the presumed destination of it. He arrived at a clearing no larger than that of his home manors dining room to see a woman in the nude looking to be strung up in metallic chains not un-similar in the crucification of Jesus Christ. Not thinking much of it the young heir blinded over to the woman, and promptly released her of her bonds with a magical wave of his blackthorn wand and threw his heavy over coat across her trembling hand frail shoulders._**

**_Unbeknownst to him the woman he had just saved was not a woman at all, but a creature. A creature known as dangerous in all the realms and countries and thought to be something akin to the Lock Ness monster in Sweden._**

**_After she had taken advantage of his hospitality and rescue form her dreaded bonds the woman had offered the man a choice for his great servetitude. Orion had attempted in telling the woman it was unneeded as he would always help a woman in distress but she would not have it. Eventually the man had said he had all that money could want and all the wealth in the world he had no reason to need anything more. The creature or woman know to him said that wealth can buy you many things but it can not buy you love. In her way of showing gratitude she then offered her body in marriage to produce him three children before the end of their sixth year of marriage for then his bloodline would continue for centuries on._**

**_The heir accepted her offer despite unsure of how to go about, after all she was very beautiful though mystical and earlier strange in a way as well. Unearthly with her nearly pupil less eyes and hair and skin of freshly fallen snow. If he hadn't known any better he would have thought her to be a spirit of the snow and winter and not a woman trapped in a nearly inhuman instrument._**

**_The creature or woman as known to the man was true to her words that day and birthed him three children before their sixth year of marriage. The eldest of their young being Marcus Elijah. He was the first of confirming suspicions of Orion's thoughts on his wife's inhumanness. As he was born with the beauty of his wife and the temperament of his self though he held something much deeper and darker within his soul. Marcus enlisted to go over seas once he reached legal age and made himself a name not in the least bit pleasing to his wizard father. Staring off as an offficer in the armies of Russia he climbed his way through the more brutal of ranks and learnt the disciplines of war. After his firm spent their he decided to direction his profession in more recreational and torturous purposes. A Mercenery, or slang called assassins and sharpshooters fulfilled his unhealthy obsession to most dark aspects of war including barbaric torture and habits of provoking violence. He was known on the streets as the tagged group of ravenous creatures ; Pure Death, or in latin Pure Mors._**

**_The second born, named Meredith did well in life long after her parents had left and she had given up contact with her eldest brother. She was different to all of them in comparison, taking her fathers averaging looks and a free spirit and live for all things natural and good in the world. She mingled in many different countries and cities in her youth before settling in London where she lived well into her years working as a social worker with children and helping those during the times of the Black Plague._**

**_Like every family in history one black sheep is bound to occur this one being the youngest Montel. He was curious in his design similar to both his sister and eldest brother though not in the extremes and instead staying closer to home than the both of them with his extreme health conditions. Orion at first after his wife had long left and his son had started getting sick for longer and longer periods of time dug around in archives before finding the truth behind his supposed human wife and what she really was._**

**_He can't say he was pleased at the prospect of finding that his wife was a magical creature and not only that but a Russian Dark Veela. They were known for the brutality and mystic ways with magic and their intense possession and need of compassion. Learning this he knew that his children were all spawns of different aspects of his missing wife, or more or less contract free wife. Marcus had easily accessed all his wife's darkest roots. The aspects of most worry and concern of all heels that made them a danger to Wizarding society. Meredith, blossoming into the sweeter and more maternal nature's if a Veela._**

**_Though Montel was a puzzle. Sick more times than not seeming to be incurable and suffering from many mania episodes in which he would ricochet from one extreme to the next. The youngest heir of Orion didn't reach adult age, passing away shortly after his seventeenth birthday in his sleep screaming in pain and weeping in an indescribable sadness. Orion after his daughter had left home and his only living son haves chosen his path in life, fell into an abyss of grief for his children having cursed them with such a burden of wickedness. It was only a month after the passing of his son on June twenty-second that he fired his last and only pistol shot, splattering his own brains on the wall as he laid on the bed._**

**_Family lines and ties were mostly lost then until a Black resurfaced in London in November 1886 staking claim to all the properties and taking up the ancestral name of the Noble House of Black. Not many people know where the woman had come from, going by the name Elladora Wallburga Black the I, but none were either willing to question her arrival either. From her she gave birth to three heirs going by the callings of Phineas, Sirius and Isla. The only thing to be reigning got he father being his tombstone with a bullet in the neck during a scuffle in the Ministry._**


	13. ten

10 - INHERITANCE

Silence took the room by storm after the morbid wives tale ended with Narcissas shaky tone ceasing to speak. She looked the most pensive of what she had spoke, her husband having a firm stoic mask in place in which he seemed to be content in keeping. His eyes blank and void of emotion, and his lank and pale face sharp from the shadows being cast from the dull light in the room. The rest of the occupants simply lost in thought with either their brows creased in concentration, lips pressed firm in a frown or tapping insistently on the top part of their desk.

"You mentioned your sisters earlier," the Headmaster spoke as he gestured towards both Lucius and Narcissa with his hand when speaking, wordlessly adding from their previous argument that it was heard.

The woman straightened her posture from its less that proper pose, sitting straight, back arched in the slightest with her chest out, chin raised but not to that of being rude. "So I did, along with myself."

"I can't help but be modestly curious as to why this slipped under the schools health records and radar," The headmaster contiuend with raised silver brows and his lips curling in a pleasant grin while his eyes fluttered curiosity and ambitious determination to understand, "As you all were deemed inheritance free while your schooling was here."

"Our birthdates did not align closely to the school months or years." Narcissa more or less dismissed not overly interested in telling the man she trusted about as far as she could grow with her life and family secrets, even if he did only promise to help her son. "Bella and 'Dromeda both received their lesser extent ones at home where mother and father could contain them and teach them the ways of staying inconspicuous from the papers."

"Dormant you said yours were?" The transfiguration teacher finally spoke up with in the room, striding behind the desk of the headmaster and pacing more or less in front of the ceiling to floor windows in the early morning.

"I was never given the gift nor curse of the family trait. Only being a holder of its possibility in my children," Narcissa replied stiff and indifferent.

"And Draco...?" The Headmaster prompted, sending a nearly missable glance towards the potions professor who seemed to like the view of the conversation from the shadows of the room near the back, not at all looking interested nor wanting to throw in his two cents.

"Draco is peculiar but nonetheless a probable case to the disease infecting my lineage." Narcissa started before casting a small glance at her husband who looked carved of marble stone in the corner near the potions professor.

"Our family had always had at least three children but when I was only able to have Draco, suffering from three miscarriages before hand...," She trailed off for a second both lost in thought and a sadness she still had yet to overcome and face. "He was our miracle child and for that he payed the price with my family's ancestry,"

"Creature inheritances," Snape simply summarized from the shadows finally seeing it prudent that he speak out about the topic. The headmaster showed little interest in that tid bit of input and instead got a far off look in his eyes while his brain whirled and twirled with thoughts, queries and questions soon to be answered.

"Precisely, Severus." Narcissa replied without missing a beat as she glanced down at her trembling hands.

"How intriguing," Minerva spoke again to the woman before giving her a small look portraying both understanding and pity in her usually dull sage eyes, "Horrible in the case of it, but nonetheless extraordinary."

Narcissa didn't offer comment though the Headmaster decided now would be an appropriate time to speak of less though still stressing matters. "Be that as it may, while Draco under goes his transition, the staff of Hogwarts would be happy to help in any way you think needed."

The woman in response gave a wilted smile, faint and breakable looking as she replied in replied, "That would be much appreciated-"

Her husband however didn't hold her sentiments and quickly interjected with a irritated outburst. Turning his usually placid face blank and red with rage.

"Narcissa have you gone mad! If Draco is truly is well, ill," He emphasized the word like a witches curse, "Then we should take him straight home. Let the elves do what they were trained to and nurse him back to his proper poise until he is ready to roam the castle alone."

"Lucius don't be daft." The Potions Professor spoke, with a look of utter annoyance and disrespect to his well known acquaintance. It was no secret that two got along well, but it seemed all relationships were put on hold when Lucius was in such a mood. "Isolating the boy will do nothing for him."

"Don't you dare call me daft, Severus," The man spat, his voice malicious and dipped in venom, stinging like a bee. "This is my son, not yours."

"He may be your son, Lucius but I am his godfather," The man Severus replied not at all bothered by the change in tone and how closely he stood the ledge from becoming a man to a tea cosy. "And seeing as how I'm the one who raised him for the summers while you were over seas throwing money around I was at home-"

"Enough the both of you!" Narcissa scorned with a deadly look of mirror shard glassy before turning her gaze to the comfortable old man behind his desk. The headmaster looked unbothered by the outbreak of arguments in his office, probably due to seeing so many happen in his many years of life, and instead watched from afar with almost a look of giddiness at the excitement of the commotion.

"Thank you for the offer," The woman finally finished her reply as she added with a sheepish smile and fidgeting fingers, "As I am going to make a small request in the hopes that you will find it respectable."

"What is your request?" McGonagall spoke intrigued, though a step farther back that usual from the still red faced Malfoy head who held the characteristics of a boiling over broth pot.

"I would ask that you allow my eldest sister, Bellatrix Lestrange neé Black, a chance on your register of staff, as she and Draco are very close." She then added quickly in one solid breath, "Maybe her being here would help everything run as smooth as possible."

"No, absolutely not!" Severus dead panned, cold as snow and iced like frosted mugs.

"You are a fool to think she would behave herself here in such a high climaxed environment. You know her tendencies and lacking of respectable order. She would hang the students by their toenails for her own personal pleasure."

He glanced at the McGongall, his fellow teacher and friend of the Headmasters, "You have heard the rumours just as well as I and if they reign true the children's parents will not condone such a thing! A woman who killed her own husband and rumoured that she laughed while doing so. She is labeled psychotic and dangerous!"

"She would not seeing as you are here to contain her," Narcissa argued to the dark haired man with her own timid but well worked opinions. She is a woman of the ministries politics and used to getting her way.

"Contain her!" Severus yelled in outraged unbelievability of what the woman was saying, "I am not a babysitter!"

"Enough you two," Dumbledore spoke finally before adding in his usual collected tone, "That will be all."

Narcissa, her eyes hopeful and lips parted just slightly around the middle she glanced at the headmaster who gave a timid one sided smile in return. "I will see what I can do. If I remember correctly she held an aptitude for Defence. Maybe she could be a suitable substitute for the class when Miss Prewett is away with her dragon-pox infected daughter."

The roomed sobered to the news of the sickly daughter of Professor Prewett. Dragon-pox was no joke in the wizarding community, similar to those in the muggle world who contract a deathly version of bacterial Pneumonia.

"Thank-you Headmaster."

He nodded in acceptance and added half heartedly as the two went to leave and visit the hospital wing where the Matron patrolling had Draco put away in a far off and secluded quarantine ward.

"Rest I assured that I will have Poppy send out updates through encryptions by owl to your Wiltshire home." The two nodded simply as the headed fro the heavy oak door as they both bid the headmaster and other occupants a small but well mannered, "Good morrow headmaster."

The two however missed his last verbal cue of dismissal as he uttered an exhausted, "Good 'morrow Lord and Lady Malfoy,"

The two remaining staff members left to prepare for early morning classes.


	14. eleven

11 - SELF-DESTRUCT

After the night of worry due to break ins and sickly boys, the castle continued as through nothing had happened at all. Harry Potter went to his classes as usual, messing up horrifically in potions and getting praise for better than usual wand work in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. His friends had tried to get him to speak of the incident but he had quickly shut it down by saying it didn't matter as 'Malfoy is probably doing it all for attention.' Ron went along with it, while Hermione herself found her eyes tracing to empty tables in classes where the blonde normally sat and searching in her pastime through the library in sections regarding wizarding maladies and injuries.

Blaise Zabini on the other hand went about things in a more forward manner. Unannounced best friend of the snarky blonde, he attempted to visit him many times throughout his breaks in the few days afterwards. He was the official bane of existence of Madame Pomfrey because of it, as day in and day out she was endlessly kicking him out of the wing with the same reply, "Mister Malfoy is not suitable to see visitors and is on isolated rest until he is better. Now don't come back here again!"

Of course being the man he was, Blaise never did listen and promptly showed up every morning for the next four days in a row and every lunch hour in the hopes of knowing he would be okay soon.

Locked in what felt like a closet with its poor ventilation, stiff and foggy air, and the forever haunting small of moth balls, Draco laid comatose. Strapped to a gurney with thick brown belts prohibiting his movement, he thrashed all throughout the day and night as he dreamt of dreams he shouldn't have even been seeing. He saw visions, flashes of colour of what was to come, but because of his illness and sickeness he couldn't hold onto much of them for long. Pomfrey had moved him to a quarantined room after the first night, with his screams ripping through the hallways of the Hospital wing, and nearly waking the entire castle. Soundproofed the room was spelled, with a lock from the outside keeping him in and the glass on the door being one way so she could see in but he couldn't see out.

The room was blank and oddly ordinary, minus the screaming boy and his thrashing, sticked with many muggle needles to keep him alive. The walls blank and white much like the floor though it was tiled and stained in places from split medicines and possibly a pool of blood on the far side. Medical supplies in a cabinet on the far side was nearly over flowing, with many different wrappings and lots of the bottles were stacked in a very diamond like fashion. It hadn't been used in ages, that much was sure, if the dust bunnies in the corner didn't give it away already. Though all of this hardly mattered, as Draco was still in his unrestful sleep, while skin rippled in waves like the blood was boiling underneath and eyes under tightly clenched eyelids dashed around unfocused. He was hardly an epitome of perfect health here at Hogwarts.

Pain was all he knew, trapped in the numbness of what one could only call sleep. But sleep was supposed to be painless, more like relaxation and rejuvenation is it's definition of the word. The one thing supposedly able to help a person rekindle their health and become a well working being again, it seemed to do the opposite entirely for him. His body was at war with something much bigger than any illness or sickness possible and because of it, it would be unlikely for him to make it past a week. A weakened wizard with a powerful and vengeful core was something no doctor wanted to ever have to treat.

Bones popped and snapped into a series of odd angles at ever twitch in his sleep he made, before returning to its original position. Blood sizzled and boiled like a tea kettle on the stove as his temperature climbed to the rankings of dengue fever. He should have been dead, but instead he just shivered and shook like man left in his swimsuit in Antarctica. Waiting for a breeze to blow him away and for hypothermia to take him once and for all. His muscles became lead like sacks unwilling to move in the slightest. An accidental tap to a reflex point when checking him and everything comes back alive in a horrific frenzy of puppet strings. Pomfrey had no idea how to treat nor fix it, and with a man as unkindly as Snape holding all his information to himself, she was left alone in the treatment, hoping that the poor boy's body would overcome this horrible hereditary curse. She slathered only herbal mixtures that smelt like strawberry flavoured wheatgrass on his temples and filled him with fluids by his bloodstream like a common muggle.

He was never able to stop for a break though. Never able to relax for a moment and regain his strength. It just continued for seven long days of him in torturous pain while he blood attacked his core and his core attacked back, It was by the third day that Pomfrey had to clear out the white room because she'd come in to see UAMH (uncontrolled accidental magical happenings). Gauzes would be thrown across never used ceiling fans and potions would be smashed across the previously clean beige walls. The cabinet would be floating, or the bedsheets would making a noose. It was never the same and never any better, so he was left in room with nothing around him but the IV tray to pump him full and for a bed without sheets pinning him down with straps.

It was terrifying for her to see. A boy barely seventeen harnessing so much dark magic and anger beneath his skin and be so unaware and unable to keep it in check. He was dangerous, more so then any student she had ever met or worked with. But in pain all the same.

Pomfrey thought she had it bad in being the one to care for the student, but she could hardly imagine what was happening beneath the boys conscious. What unimaginable realities he was forced to subdue and see in his state of comatose where he could feel and hear everything around him but he couldn't change the course of plans, couldn't give her so much as a hint to lend a hand. He was hopelessly alone in his trek through hell and all she could offer was a mild organic paste to make his head itchy and to keep alive just enough to open his eyes. When the time comes and he beats the demons, wreaking havoc through his subconscious body and mind she would be waiting, in the hopes to help once more.

It was the sixth day when the accidental magic finally disappeared and the fever finally broke. He was laying quietly on the bed all alone with his complexion much paler and his body much slimmer. His screams still came through, though they lasted much longer this time. They didn't stop in this entire twenty-four hours because his body had been replenished and saved but now there only was left the battle of wit. Pomfrey wasn't sure how much longer his psych could handle of pain if he were to stay sane. He screamed and yelled but he didn't move an inch. It was only on the sixteenth hour did all come to an end and then she thought him to be dead. His pulse all but disappeared and his breathing went so shallow it seemed lost. But his heart still pumped but no blood went through on a journey through to his limbs. It was strange. Odd and phenomenal in all muggle medical related sciences. Because he was figuratively living but literally dying all the same.

He awoke a day later, precisely at the seven day marker. Pomfrey didn't know exactly what to say, as she was ready to proclaim him dead within a hour. But then he opened his eyes and screamed in a much Malfoy-like manner to smash the insidious clock stationed on the far well. Of course being the lady she was known to be, she did no such thing and rather reprimanded the boy on his shouting in the Hospital wing.

She did the standard checkups of body and mind. With scanners through her wandwork and a few muggle ones just to be sure, before sending a patronous the shape of a calf towards the Headmaster. He was awake and he was living but somethings never did go back to the way they should have. His heart still beat, yet his pulse was sluggish at best. His breathing was regular yet it seemed a bit lighter, as if he didn't suffer from asthma damage as a child. It was curious how things worked out and she didn't know what to think, but when she received word that she was to bring him up to the Headmaster's office, she dared not to ignore it.

Draco whined and moaned about how much his head had hurt though he didn't know how the hell he got to the wing in the first place. He remembered the house call to the Great Hall and the strange weird talk that the Headmaster gave, but everything after that was oddly blank. The nursemaid was in a fit and honestly he didn't know what to think of it, because really that clocks ticking was irregularly loud and should be smashed to smithereens at this point. But there it stayed on that blasted wall, ticking and tocking make a lot more noise that it ought to be allowed.

He was forced to be dressed in a thing sheet robe soon after being slathered with pastes and unplugged from the muggle looking torture devices. Then he was ushered up the Headmaster's stairs after being escorted in the early morning light by Pomfrey.


End file.
